For Whom The Bell Tolls
by She Who Cannot Be Turned
Summary: **Sequel to Reaper** When disaster happens, Harry is needed back with the Winchesters. But after what happened when he left, will he return? Slash.
1. Prologue

Prologue 

Harry walked back to the shrieking shack, where he was staying temporarily whilst reaping in the wizarding world. He had used his time away from the brother's well, having _borrowed_ several books from the book shop in Hogsmeade. A store which he swore blind hadn't been there when he was alive. Still, he had used the books and now had a better handle on his magic. He was ready to return to America to try and find Sam. Well, he would return when he finished his quota here in England. Maybe after doing a little sightseeing.

Harry jumped when someone coughed behind him, making him drop the book he had borrowed that day (he had every intention of returning them—one day.) Behind him stood Hank, looking serious for once.

"Hank? What's up? Has something happened?" Harry asked, bending down to pick up his book.

"It's the Winchesters'."

"What's happened? Is Sam all right? Dean?"

"Sam's fine."

"But what about Dean? You never said Dean was okay."

"They were in a car crash."

"How is Dean? Why aren't you telling me?" Harry shrilled, making Hank wince at the sound.

"I didn't think you liked Dean."

"But Sam loves him! Sam will be killed if Dean dies. I saved his ass once, I'll damn well do it again."

"You can't." Hank said, walking over to Harry, who clutched the book to his chest protectively.

"Why not? What's happened?" Harry asked, looking up at Hank with wide eyes.

Hank sighed and lead Harry back to the house. "The crash wasn't an accident."

"What!" Harry shrieked, making Hank wince once again. Harry growled under his breath and Hank rolled his eyes as he walked through the door into the Shack.

"The crash was caused by a demon."

"It was that bastard Azazel wasn't it! That yellow-eyed freak! I hate him!"

"You cannot do anything."

"Who says? I'm gonna castrate the little bastard. The only one who is allowed to touch Dean and Sam Winchester in any way is me! I have Dean's soul, it's mine!"

"Harry."

"Don't Harry me!" Harry shrieked, glaring at Hank, who just stared at him sympathetically, which just made Harry feel even angrier.

"Harry." Hank said with a sigh.

"What."

"Dean's in a coma. Azazel didn't have anything to do with it."

"A demon did crash into them though, right?"

"Yes."

"Then I want it's ass now!" Harry hissed, throwing himself onto a tatty couch, a cloud of dust appearing around him at the effort.

"What about the Winchester's."

"What about them? He's in a coma, I can't help him."

"He's wandering. It's only been an hour at most. He doesn't realise he isn't awake yet. Someone needs to lead him on. That is why I am here."

"But I can't."

"Dean Winchester will be your last soul to reap, I can understand you reluctance to take his soul."

"No. He can't die. Can't we do a swapsy?"

"Not again. One person has already died for Dean Winchester. Another cannot."

"It's not fair!"

"Life isn't fair sometimes Harry."

"Fine. Come on then, let's go."

"Do you wish to take anything?"

"No, I'll leave it here. No one comes here anymore. I can always appear back if I should need anything."

"Come then. I'll take you to Dean."

"Are you sure he can't live?"

**A/N – So, I'm back with a very short chapter I'll admit. This season was always a tweak bit darker, and I'll admit I have had plans of how I was going to write the next chapter since I began this. So tell me what you think and the next chapter shall be up pretty soon.**


	2. In My Time Of Dying

Chapter One – In My Time Of Dying

Dean looked at his father, who sat at his bedside, and walked around him. "Come on, Dad. You gotta help me. I gotta get better, I gotta get back in there. I mean, you haven't called a soul for help. You haven't even tried. Aren't you gonna do anything? Aren't you even gonna say anything? I've done everything you have ever asked me. Everything."

Dean was near to tears by this point, wanting to desperately shake his father, or have some sort of contact. "I've given everything I've ever had. And now you're just gonna sit there, and you're gonna watch me die? I mean, what the hell kind of father are you?" John sat beside the bed with a blank expression on his face. Dean sighed then turned as he heard a strange noise come from the hallway. "What is that?" He moved to the door and suddenly saw a transparent ghost-like figure rush past him. He looked back at John and sighed. "I take it you didn't see that."

Dean walked out into the hall and tried to follow the creature. It rushed past him again and entered a room. Dean followed it into the room and saw a woman on the floor, She was gasping for air and her body was shaking violently.

"Help! Help!"

"Hey! I need some help in here!" Dean yelled, getting ignored much to no one's surprise. Dean went back into the room and knelt down next to the woman.

"I can't—breathe!" She was bleeding from the throat as Dean watched her helplessly.

* * *

"Sammy, tell me you can freakin' hear me, man. There's somethin' in the hospital. Now you gotta bring me back and we've gotta hunt this thing. I know you're still angry with me about Harry, but come on dude. Sam!"

"You're quiet." John said looking at his younger son as Sam walked over to the bed and slammed the bag down.

"You think I wouldn't find out?"

"What are you talkin' about?"

"That stuff from Bobby. You don't use it to ward off a demon, you use it to summon one. You're planning on bringing the demon here, aren't you, and having some stupid macho showdown!"

"I have a plan, Sam."

"That's exactly my point! Dean is dying and you have a plan! You know what, you care more about killing this demon than you do saving your own son!" Sam yelled at his father, making Dean wince.

"No, no, no. Guys, don't do this!"

"Do not tell me how I feel." John yelled at the same time as Dean. "I am doing this for Dean."

"How? How is revenge gonna help him? You're not thinkin' about anybody but yourself! It's the same selfish obsession."

"Am I interrupting something?" Dean spun around and looked at Harry in shock.

"Aw man. I'm gonna die aren't I?" Dean whined, ignoring the arguing still going on behind him.

"Not if I can help it."

"What?"

"I refuse to let you die." Harry said, looking at Sam and John who were still arguing.

"I should have never taken you along in the first place. I knew it was a mistake." John stated, making Harry wince along with Sam as Dean spun and turned around angrily.

"Shut up!" He knocked over a glass of water on John's bedside table. The glass shattered and water spilt everywhere. Sam and John went silent and stared at the water in shock, whilst Dean turned to face Harry. "Dude, I full-on Swayze'd that mother!"

"Yes, yes, well done." Harry said in a bored tone whilst Sam and John continued to stare at the water and glass.

"So, you're gonna help me? You're gonna save me, pull the same voodoo you did before?"

"Not exactly. If I save you I won't be able to be a Reaper anymore. The victim I would choose would be my last reap."

"Does that mean you won't do it?"

"I never said that." Harry snapped before sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'm just making sure you know what's what. I'll do it though."

"What will happen to you?"

"Me? I'll save you and Sam will rejoice. I don't honestly know what will happen to me."

"Then don't do it."

"I have to! It'll kill Sam if you die and that thing wants you dead."

"Can Sam even see you?"

"No, I learnt a way to make it so only who I want can see me." Harry said, looking at Dean with a quirky little smile.

Suddenly Dean fell to his knees in pain, his body began to flicker, making Harry begin to panic. "Shit."

"What is it?" Dean gasped out, clinging onto Harry as several doctors ran past the room.

"Something's goin' on out there." John said, gesturing for Sam to leave the room, which he did..

In Dean's room the doctors were using a defibrillator on Dean. Trying to find a pulse. Sam watched from the doorway, tears running down his face.

"All clear." The doctor said, moving away from Dean's body.

"Clear." The nurse shocked him but he was still flat-lining.

"No." Sam sobbed, still watching from the door."

"Still no pulse."

"Okay, let's go again. 360."

"Charging."

"All clear."

"Clear." She shocked Dean again but nothing happened. "Still no pulse, clear." She shocked him again and Dean, being helped by Harry managed to make his way to his own room and noticed something. The creature that he saw from earlier was hovering over his body.

"What the hell is that thing?" Dean asked, turning to face Harry, who was looking at the creature with confusion.

"It's not a Reaper. If it is, it's in a whole new fugly division to me." Harry told him, sneering at the reaper-like thing in a Malfoy-esque way. Dean looked at him and then turned back to the creature.

"You get the hell away from me. Stay back!" Dean walked over to his bed, near the creature.

"No charge. I'm starting CPR."

"I said, 'Get back!'" Dean shouted, so loudly that his voice echoed around the room. Sam, hearing Dean's voice faintly, looked around the room shocked, whilst Dean grabbed the creature and it threw him into the wall. The creature looked at him and then Harry briefly, before it then left the room and vanished.

"We have a pulse. We're back into the sinus rhythm." The nurse said, much to Sam's relief.

"Don't worry, Sammy. I'm not goin' anywhere. I'm gettin' that thing before it gets me. It's some kind of spirit, but I could grab it. And if I can grab it, I can kill it."

"He can't hear you, Dean. Why are you telling him this?"

"It makes me feel better alright?" Dean snapped, making Harry hold up his hands in peace.

"Okay."

"What's that?" Dean asked suddenly, looking out the door, hearing someone screaming.

"Can't you see me? Why won't you look at me?" A woman screamed, Dean and Harry looked at each other then ran out of the room to the screaming woman.

In another stairwell a woman was walking up the stairs, trying to get the attention of anyone she passed. Dean walked over to her.

"Somebody talk to me! Say something."

"Can you see me?" Dean asked, walking up behind her, making her turn around in shock.

"Yeah." Dean walked up the stairs to meet her at the top of the stairwell.

"All right, just calm down. What's your name?"

"Tessa."

"Okay, good, Tessa. I'm Dean and this-"

"She can't see me." Harry interrupted quickly, looking at Tessa warily.

"What's happening to me? Am I—am I dead?"

"That sort of depends." Dean said, walking with Tessa back to her room in the hospital.

"I don't understand. I just came in for an appendectomy." Tessa said once they reached her room, watching as he mother knelt by her bedside.

"I hate to bear bad news, but—I think there were some complications." Dean said, ignoring the snort from Harry.

"It's just a dream, that's all. This is just a very weird unbelievably vivid dream."

"Tessa, it's not a dream."

"Then what else could it be?"

"Oh she's a bright one." Harry muttered and Dean's lips twitched in amusement for a second before he coughed and cleared his throat.

"You ever heard of an out of body experience?" Dean suddenly asked, getting a thought.

Tessa shook her head negatively and looked at Dean in confusion. "What are you, some New Age-y guy?"

"You see me messin' with crystals or listenin' to Yanni? It's actually a very old idea It's got a lot of different names—bilocation, crisis apparitions, fetches. I think it's happening to us. And if it is, it means we're spirits—of people close to death."

"So we're gonna die?"

"Oh for the love of- _I'm_ gonna help her die if she doesn't shut up. How about her life in exchange for yours?" Harry asked, glaring at Tessa.

Dean glanced at Harry and then turned his attention back to Tessa. "No, we're not gonna die. Not if we hold on. Our bodies can get better, you can snap right back in there and wake up." Dean told her, getting a strange look from Tessa.

"I don't trust her, Dean."

"I gotta say, I'm impressed."

"With what?" Tessa and Harry both asked at the same time.

"You. I mean, most people in your spot would be jell-o by now, but, uh, you're takin' this pretty well. Maybe a little better than me."

"See, that's why I don't trust her."

"Don't get me wrong. I was pretty freaked at first, but now, I don't know. Maybe I'm dealing."

"So you're okay with dying?" Dean asked sceptically.

"No, of course not. I just think whatever's gonna happen is gonna happen. It's out of my control. Its just fate."

"Huh. Man, that's crap. You always have a choice. You can either roll over and die, or you can keep fightin' no matter what—" Dean is cut short as a team of doctors ran past him and a voice came on the P.A.

"Dr Kripke to Room 237, code blue. Dr Kripke to Room 237, code blue." Dean and Harry looked at each other and then followed the doctors.

"Dean, where are you going?"

"Just wait here." Dean told her, following them into a room where they were using CPR on a young Asian girl. Dean saw the creature hovering above the girls body as the doctors worked on her. The creature slowly stroked the girl's face. "Get away from her!" Dean moved toward the girl's bed, but the creature vanished before he reached it and the girl flat-lined.

"All right. Let's call it." The doctor said with a sigh.

"Time of death—5.11 pm."

"At least she's not suffering anymore." Dean looked at the girl sadly then turned back to Harry.

"Let's go back to Sam." Harry said softly, holding out his hand for Dean to take. Dean nodded and grabbed Harry's hand and allowed himself to be lead away from the room. "Not everyone can be saved Dean. For some, it's their time."

* * *

When they got back to Dean's room, they were soon joined by Sam who had a paper bag in his hands. Harry and Dean looked at each other then turned their attention back to Sam.

"Hey. I think maybe you're around and if you are—don't make fun of me for this, but um—there's one way we can talk." Sam said nervously before he took a Quija board out of the bag.

"Oh, you gotta be kiddin' me." Dean groaned, ignoring the chuckle from Harry and watching as Sam sat cross-legged on the floor and set up the board. He placed his fingers on the planchette.

"Dean?" Sam asked, sighing. "Dean, are you here?"

"God I feel like I'm at a slumber party. And your giggling isn't helping." Dean said and then sat down cross-legged, across from Sam. "All right, Sam. This isn't gonna work."

"It might you know. You did break that glass."

Dean glanced at Harry and then placed his fingers on the other side of the planchette before moving it to the word 'yes'. As he did this, Sam's eyes lit up and Dean seemed shocked. "I'll be damned."

"Told you so."

"It's good to hear from you, man. It hasn't been the same without you, Dean." Sam said, relieved.

"Damn straight." Dean said, before starting to move the planchette to different letters on the board. "This would be so much easier if you just appeared in front of him."

"No can do."

"Dean, what? H... U... " The planchette moves to the letter 'N' "Hun? What, hunting?" Dean moved the planchette to the 'yes'. "Dean, it's in the hospital what you're hunting—do you now what it is?"

"One question at a time, dude."

"What is it?" Dean moved the planchette as he began talking.

"I don't think it's killing people. I think it's taking them. You know, their time is just up." After having moved the planchette to the letters 'R-E-A-P', Sam figured it out.

"A Reaper. Dean? Is it Harry? Is it after you?"

"How the hell do I answer that." Dean asked, before moving the planchette to the 'Yes'

"If it's here naturally—there's no way to stop it."

"Yup. You can't kill Death." Harry added in cheerfully.

"Man—You're, um—"

"I'm screwed, Sam."

"No—No, no, no. There's gotta be a way. There's gotta be a way. Dad'll know what to do." Sam got up and left the room, leaving Harry and Dean behind.

"Think he knows I'm here?" Harry asked, sitting on the bedside table and swinging his legs from side to side.

"Doubt it."

"Huh. About Tessa—" Harry started getting interrupted as Sam came back in the room.

"Hey. So, Dad wasn't in his room."

"Where is he?"

"But I got Dad's journal, so who knows? Maybe there's somethin' in here." He flipped through the journal as Dean came to look over his shoulder.

"Thanks for not giving up on me, Sammy." Dean said proudly. As Sam turned the page on Reapers, Dean began to read and then noticed something. "Son of a bitch." Dean cursed before leaving the room. Harry glanced back at Sam and then quickly left to follow Dean.

Harry found Dean in Tessa's room, where Tessa was no longer wearing her hospital pyjamas but a nice suit. It seemed that Dean had found out what Harry was trying to tell him before.

"Hi, Dean."

"You know, you read the most interesting things. For example, did you know that Reapers can alter human perception? I sure didn't. Basically, they can make themselves appear however they want. Like, say—a pretty girl. You're much prettier than the last Reaper I met."

"Hey! I'm pretty!" Harry said in protest.

"Well, yeah, sure—if you want." Dean said to pacify. Tessa looked at him in confusion.

"Who are you talking to?"

"She can't see you?"

"No."

"See who?" Tessa asked at the same time.

"Oh, no one. So you were saying?"

"Death is nothing to fear. You're on borrowed time, Dean."

"Hey, bitch! This is my Reap!" Harry said, making himself appear in front of the other Reaper, Tessa.

"Who are you?"

"Harry."

"Ah."

"Ah what? Seriously! I need a second chance!"

"You are Death's chosen."

"Damn straight, Bitch! So leave this one alone."

"Why? Why is he so important to you?"

"He's not the important one." Harry said, skirting around the question.

"Oh that's so sweet! The Reaper in love. You know he'll never love you back right?"

"True, that's not really the point though, is it? I love his brother and I never want to see him upset if I can help it in any way."

"So, you'll give up your existence for him? You do know what will happen if you complete your quota without knowing love right? And you have the smallest quota any reaper has ever been given."

"What'll happen to him?" Dean asked, looking between the two reapers.

"He'll cease to exist."

"What, like go to wherever it is dead people go to?"

"No. We don't have a soul to do that. Hank keeps a hold of our souls forever as soon as the deal is made."

"Hank is?" Dean asked, trying to remember when or if Harry had mentioned Hank before.

"Death." Both Reapers answered him, making Dean jump to face Harry, having almost forgotten about the male Reaper who was staring out of the door.

"All this is lovely but let's face it. The fight's over. No matter who takes his soul."

"No it isn't." Dean denied, looking at Harry who refused to look at him.

"It is for you. Dean, you're not the first soldier I've plucked from the field. They all feel the same. They can't leave, victory hangs in the balance. But they're wrong. The battle goes on without them. Ask Harry."

"Huh?"

"Shh." Harry hissed, glaring at the other Reaper.

"My brother—he could die without me."

"Maybe he will. Maybe he won't. Nothing you can do about it. It's an honourable death—a warriors death."

"I think I'll pass on the seventy-two virgins, thanks. I'm not that into prude chicks anyway."

"That's funny. You're very cute."

"He's mine, bitch."

"You know he has to die. Hank told you this. I know he did."

"There's no such thing as an honourable death. I mean, my corpse is gonna rot in the ground and my family is gonna die." He paused in thought. "No. I'm not goin' with you. I don't care what you do."

"Well—like you said, there's always a choice. I can't make you come with me. But you're not getting back in your body. And that's just facts. So yes, you can stay. You'll stay here for years, disembodied, scared. And over the decades, it'll probably drive you mad. Maybe you'll even get violent."

"What're you saying."

"Dean—how do you think angry spirits are born? They can't let go, and they can't move on. And you're about to become one—the same thing you hunt." Dean stared speechless and then turned to Harry, who nodded sadly.

"She's right, you know."

"It's time to put the pain behind you."

"And go where?" Dean asked softly, having almost given up the fight. Harry walked away from the door and stepped beside Dean, placing a hand on his arm.

"We're not allowed to say."

"We can't give away the big punch-line. Moment of truth. No changing you mind later. So what's it going to be? Either of us can take you." Tessa asked him, glancing to the side at Harry before looking back at Dean for his answer.

Dean appeared to be thinking about his answer, looking between the two Reapers and taking a strange comfort from Harry at his side. Before he spoke up, the lights in the room began flickering. They all stood up straighter and looked around them.

"What are you doin' that for?"

"I'm not doing it." Tessa said as an enormous cloud of black some began to come through the air vent.

"What the hell?" Dean asked, as Tessa panicked and Harry smirked and stepped away from the two of them.

"You can't do this! Get away!"

"You know we're not allowed to go near Azazel, Tessa."

"What's happening?" Dean asked, watching as Tessa screamed as the black smoke entered her mouth. When all of it was inside of her, she turned to Dean and her eyes were orange.

"Today's your lucky day kid. " She moved over to him and put her hand on his head. Dean screamed and then disappeared, leaving the two Reapers; one possessed the other not, alone in the room.

"His father saved him didn't he?" Harry asked, looking at the reaper/demon.

"Yes. Take Hanks advice kid and stay out of Azazel's way. Stay away from the youngest Winchester."

* * *

"I can't explain it. The oedema's vanished. The internal contusions are healed. Your vitals are good. You've got some kind of angel watchin' over you." The doctor said, back in Dean's room. Sam sitting at his bedside.

"Thanks, Doc." The doctor nodded and then left the room, Dean turned to Sam and sighed. "So you said a Reaper was after me?"

"Yeah."

"How'd I ditch it?"

"You got me there. Dean, you really don't remember anything?"

"No. Except this pit in my stomach. Sam, something's wrong." Dean said as John entered and knocked on the door.

"How you feelin', dude?"

"Fine, I guess. I'm alive."

"That's what matters."

"Where were you last night?"

"I had some things to take care of."

"Well that's specific."

"Come on, Sam."

"Did you go after the demon?"

"No."

"You know, why don't I believe you right now?" Sam said. Dean sighed, making his disapproval heard.

"Can we not fight? You know, half the time we're fightin', I don't know what we're fightin' about. We're just buttin' heads. Sammy, I...I've made some mistakes. But I've always done the best I could. I just don't wanna fight anymore, okay?" John said with a smile.

"Dad, are you alright?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm just tired." Sam nodded. "Hey, Sam would you mind, uh—would you mind getting' me a cup of caffeine?"

"Yeah. Yeah, sure." Sam said, leaving the room. John watched him leave tearfully.

"What is it?"

"You know, when you were a kid…I'd come home from a hunt. And after what I'd seen, I'd be…I'd be wrecked. And you'd…come up to me, and you'd put your hand on my shoulder, and you'd look me in the eye, and you'd—" John's voice broke slightly. Tears formed in his eyes as he continued "-you'd say, 'It's okay, Dad.' Dean…I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"You shouldn't have had to say that to me. I should've been sayin' that to you. You know, I put…I put too much on your shoulders, I made you grow up too fast. You took care of Sammy, and you took care of me. You did that. And you didn't complain, not once." A single tear rolled down his cheek, "I just want you to know…that I am so proud of you." He looked at Dean as he strove not to break down in tears.

"Is this really you talkin'?"

"Yeah, yeah, it's really me."

"Why are you sayin' this stuff?" John moved closer to him and then laid a hand on Dean's shoulder.

"I want you to watch out for Sammy, okay?"

"Yeah, Dad, you know I will. You're scarin' me." Dean said, voice thick with tears.

"Don't be scared, Dean." He then leant down and whispered something in Dean's ear. When John pulled away Dean looked shocked and confused. Without even saying anything, the two of them shared an emotional moment and then John nodded sadly and left the room.

* * *

Sam walked through the hallways, Harry walking behind him, invisible to all watching, including Sam. As they passed one of the rooms, Sam stopped in his tracks, making Harry nearly walk into him, when he saw John on the floor unmoving.

"Dad?" Sam dropped the coffee cup on the floor, spilling coffee all over the floor as Sam rushed into the room and bent down over his father, screaming for help.

Doctors ran into the room, Dean having noticed the noise, had followed them and was standing at the door in shock. The doctors managed to get John onto his back and had hooked him up to several machines. They began to give him CPR as Sam and Dean stood in the doorway, Harry standing behind them.

"No, no, no, it's our dad. It's our dad!" Dean shouted as a nurse spoke to them in quiet tones. She shook her head and then left them alone.

"Okay, let's try again—an amp of atropine." A doctor said.

"Come on." He, Sam and Harry watched tearfully as the doctors tried a few more times.

"Okay. Stop compression."

"Come on, come on." Dean muttered.

"Still no pulse."

"Okay, that's it everybody. I'll call it." Dean and Sam watched as the doctor straightened. "Time of death—10:41 AM.

"They couldn't save him you know." Harry told them, appearing in front of them when the two upset brothers went back to Dean's room.

"Harry?"

"Yeah. Dean can't remember but I was with him when he was in a coma."

"You helped me?"

"Yeah. I tried."

"What beat the reaper after me? It wasn't you was it?"

"No, it was a reaper called Tessa. Your father saved you, Dean. He gave his life for your own."

"No."

"It's true. Sorry."

"Are you staying with us now? Are you coming back to us?" Sam asked, eyes wet with tears.

"If it's okay with you two?"

"Yeah. Things haven't been the same without you." Sam said with a weak smile. Harry smiled back and then placed a hand on Sam's shoulder in comfort.

**A/N - Well, can I just say, the reveiws for the previous chapter were great! Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed! I am at my mothers house at the moment so I'm scamming off her internet and decided to update again! I will hopefully get the internet back by the thirteenth... Hopefully! It's killing me! Hope you like this chapter! And thank you again!**


	3. Everyone Loves A Clown

Chapter Two – Everybody Loves A Clown

Harry stood next to Sam, watching as the body of John Winchester was burned on a pyre, having not buried him so that nobody ever used his body for something nefarious. Sam sobbed and Harry inched closer to Sam and then placed a hand at Sam's elbow, squeezing gently.

"Before—before he—" Sam stopped, unable to get the words out at he looked at a very stoic Dean. "Did he say anything to you? About anything?"

Dean looked at Sam and paused before answering, "No. Nothin'." Dean tells him, making Harry narrow his eyes at Dean, who looked away from Harry when he caught his eye. Noticed by no one else, a tear ran down Dean's cheek as he watched the fire burn.

* * *

Sam and Harry walked over to Dean, who was lying underneath the Impala, working on it. Sam, after the two having done rock paper scissors, approached Dean.

"How's the car comin' along?"

"Slow."

"Yeah? Need any help?"

"What, you under a hood? I'll pass." Dean said, making Harry snigger and walk over to the two brothers, seeing that Dean seemed to be in a better mood than the previous days. Perhaps because the Impala was now _looking_ more like an Impala, as opposed to a large mess of scarp metal.

"Need anything else then?" Sam asked, moving back slightly when Dean slid out from under the car.

"Stop it, Sam."

"Stop what?"

"Stop askin' if I need anything. Stop askin' if I'm okay. I'm okay. Really. I promise. Go play with your little Reaper."

"Hey! I'm not little!" Five foot four Harry said indignantly, getting disbelieving looks from the freakishly tall brothers.

"Whatever. Anyway. Go play."

"I have an idea for a game!"

"Don't play his games. Play Monopoly. Surely Bobby has one somewhere." Dean told Sam, ignoring the pout that Harry sported, having his ideas ruthlessly squashed.

"All right. Dean, it's just—we've been at Bobby's for over a week now and you haven't brought up dad once." Sam said with a sigh, looking at his brother, who glared back.

"You know what, you're right. Come here. I gonna lay my head gently on your shoulder. Maybe we can cry, hug—maybe even slow dance."

"Don't patronise me, Dean, Dad is dead! The colt is gone, and it seems pretty damn likely that the demon is behind all of this, and you're actin' like nothin' happened."

"Wait a minute. Colt? What's this?"

"Oh right, you wouldn't know. Dad found out about a gun Samuel Colt made that would kill any demon. Not send back to hell, but kill." Sam told the confused Reaper.

"And you lost it?" Harry asked slowly.

"Er... yeah."

"Smart going, Lawyer Boy." Harry told him dryly, patting Sam on the arm and getting a venomous glare from Sam, that made Harry's eyes widen in shock.

"Oh shut up. You left us so you have nothing to say about it." Sam snapped, making Dean look at him in shock whilst Harry looked away.

"Hmm. Maybe."

"Why did you leave?"

"My reasons are my own." Harry said, after seeing Dean frantically shaking his head.

"Well it was very selfish of you! Dad might have survived if you had been with us."

"Don't be stupid. I came back when I heard Dean was in a coma and was about to move on. I came back to bring him back to you. I didn't have to do either, as I would have been safer." Harry said calmly, making Dean look at him strangely.

"You came back to bring _me_ back? Why?"

"Oh it wasn't for you, before you even think it. It was for him. He'd have been crushed with your death." Harry told him moodily.

"Well thanks. I guess."

"This still isn't talking about dad." Sam said in frustration, making Harry and Dean look at him, exasperated.

"What do you want me to say?"

"Say something, all right? Hell, say anything! Aren't you angry? Don't you want revenge? But all you do is sit out there all day long, buried underneath this damn car!"

"Revenge huh?"

"Yeah."

"Sounds good. You got any leads on where the demon is? Are you makin' heads or tails of any of dad's research? 'Cause I sure ain't. but you know what, when we do finally find it—oh no, wait. You said, the Colt's gone. But I'm sure you've figured out another way to kill it. We've got nothin' Sam. Nothin' okay? So you know what? The only thing I can do is I can work on the car."

"Well, we've got somethin', all right? That's what I came out here to tell you." He took a mobile phone out of his pocket and held it up. "It's one of Dad's old phones. It took me a while, but I cracked his voicemail code. Listen to this." He handed the phone to Dean to listened to the message.

Harry stepped closer to try and hear the message but he couldn't, which made him sulk, to Sam's amusement.

"You can listen after him." Sam told him reassuringly.

"Thank you. How come you didn't let me hear it first?"

"Are you kidding? What if Dean found out?"

"Found out what?" Dean asked, handing the phone back to Sam, who then handed it to Harry.

Harry dialled for the answer phone and held it to his ear, listening to a woman called Ellen tell John she could help.

"That message is four months old." Sam told them both once Harry had finished listening and had handed the phone back.

"Dad saved that chick's message for four months?"

"Yeah."

"Well, who's Ellen?" Harry asked the brothers, who both shrugged.

"Any mention of her in Dad's journal?" Dean asked, turning to Sam.

"No, but I ran trace on the phone number, and I got an address."

Dean paused a moment and looked at Sam, "Ask Bobby if we can use one of his cars."

"Sure, Harry stay here, you make Bobby twitchy." Sam said to Harry getting a huff in return.

* * *

"This is humiliating. I feel like a friggin' soccer mom!"

"Funny. You look like one too."

"Shut it, Limey."

"Hey!"

"Both shut up. Dean, it's the only car Bobby had running." Sam told them as they all got out of a minivan and looked up at a place called Harvelle's Roadhouse. They look around outside the building before walking up to the door and trying to open it, but it was locked. "Hello? Anybody here?"

"Hey."

"Yeah?"

"Did you bring the, uh..."

"Of course." Sam said, ignoring Harry's shocked look and taking out a case full of lock-picking tools and tossed it to Dean.

"How did you know what he wanted?"

"The door's locked, it's Dean, it really wasn't that hard." Sam said as they watched Dean unlock the door and then push it open.

The three walked into the very empty and quiet roadhouse, taking note of a man sleeping on the pool table. They moved closer to the man.

"Hey, buddy?" Sam said, the man didn't even stir much to Harry's amusement. "I'm guessin' that isn't Ellen."

"Yeah." Harry and Dean agreed.

Sam went to look around in another room while Dean and Harry stayed by the bar. A moment later it had all gone to hell in a hand basket as Dean was held at gun point and Harry was once more invisible to human eyes, except Dean's betrayed ones.

"Traitor." Dean muttered, making Harry wince and walk behind the girl and then lunging for the gun and grabbing it away from Dean.

"Who's the traitor now?" Harry asked, appearing in front of all the humans in the bar and getting a glare from Dean.

"I'm just happy it was a rifle." Dean muttered then watched in stunned disbelief as the girl punched Harry and grabbed the gun back. "Dude, you just punched a Reaper."

"Don't move."

"Not movin' copy that."

"Sam! We need help in here! I can't see, sunovabitch! I can't friggin' see. How come dead people still bloody bleed?" Harry muttered, stumbling over to Dean and holding onto him, much to Dean's disgruntlement, though he did steady the Reaper when he stumbled.

Much to their dismay however, Sam walked out with his hands on his head, followed closely by a woman who was pointing another gun at him. "Sorry Dean, Harry. I can't right now. I'm uh, a little tied up."

After a moment the woman seemed to notice something, looking between the three curiously. "Sam? Dean?... Winchester?"

"Yeah."

"Son of a bitch. Who's the extra?"

"He's Harry. A Reaper." Dean said, grunting when Harry nudged him, still eyeing the gun pointing at them warily.

"Why are you scared of a gun then? You're already dead?"

"You punch me and ask me why I'm scared? Why are you not scared? Plus, do you know how much a gunshot wound hurts? Even a dead guy!" Harry said, wiping at his face and getting rid of some more of the blood.

"Mom, do you know these guys?"

"Not the Reaper, but the other two, yeah. I think they are John Winchester's boys." She lowered her gun, laughing. "Hey, I'm Ellen. That's my daughter Jo."

Jo lowered her gun, much to Dean and Harry's relief. "Hey."

"You're not gonna hit me again, are you?"

"No, I don't think it would be safe a second time." Jo told him bluntly, making Dean laugh and punch Harry's shoulder.

"This guy? He's no danger to anyone!"

"He's a Reaper."

"Yeah, he's defunct." Dean said, wowing both Sam and Harry with his vocabulary.

* * *

A few minutes later, they were all sitting around, talking. Ellen handed Harry an ice pack to place on the area where Jo punched him.

"Here you go."

"Thanks." Harry said, smiling softly when she made sure not to touch him. Dean leaned over then and grabbed Ellen's attention.

"You called our dad and said you could help—help with what?"

"Well... The demon, of course. I heard he was closing in on it." Ellen said, making Harry narrow his eyes at her.

"Was there an article in _The Demon Hunter's Quarterly_ that I missed? I mean, who are you? How do you know about all this?"

"Hey, I just run a saloon. But hunters have been known to pass through now and again, including your dad a long time ago. John was like family once."

"Oh yeah? How come he's never mentioned you before?"

"You'd have to ask him that." Ellen told him, not noticing the hurt look passing across Dean's face, making Harry look at him worriedly.

"So why exactly do we need your help?"

"Hey, don't do me any favours. Look, if you don't want my help, fine. Don't let the door smack your ass on the way out. But John wouldn't have sent you if..." She trailed off as though realising something. "He didn't send you." Sam and Dean look down sadly, whilst Harry squeezed Sam's hand comfortingly. "He is alright, isn't he?"

"No. No, he isn't. It was the demon, we think. It, um... just got him before he got it, I guess." Sam told her, gripping Harry's hand back.

"I'm so sorry."

"It's okay. We're alright." Dean said, looking at Sam and Harry suspiciously.

"Really. I know how close you and your dad—"

"Really lady, I'm fine."

"So, look, if you can help... we could use all the help we can get." Sam said, not noticing that he and Harry were still holding hands.

"Well, we can't. But Ash will."

"Who's Ash?"

"Ash!" Ellen yelled, making Harry wince. The man who was sleeping on the pool table woke up and startled. His hair was fashioned in a very long and slightly messy mullet, which amused Harry.

"What? Closin' time?"

"That's Ash?" Sam asked, finally letting go of Harry's hand, much to the reapers disappointment.

"Mm-hmm. He's a genius."

A few minutes later, the three join Ash at the bar, placing a thick folder in front of him.

"You've gotta be kidding me. This guy's no genius. He's a Lynard Skynard roadie." Ash chuckled.

"I like you."

"Thanks." Dean said slowly, turning his head to the side to give an incredulous look at Harry and Sam, both of whom just shrugged.

"Just give him a chance." Jo told them. Dean sat down and slid the folder over to Ash.

"All right. That stuff's about a year's worth of our dad's work, so, uh... let's see what you make of it." Ash opened the folder and began looking through the stack of papers.

"Come on. This crap ain't real. Ain't nobody can track a demon like this."

Sam and Dean exchanged a look, "Our dad could."

"These are nonparametric statistical overviews, cross-spectrum correlations. I mean... Damn. They're signs—omens. If you can track 'em, you can track this demon—you know, like crop failures, electrical storms. You ever been struck by lightning? It ain't fun."

"Can you track it or not?"

"Yeah, with this, I think so. But it's gonna take time. Uh, give me... fifty-one hours." He gathered up the research and began to walk away, leaving Sam, Harry and Dean stunned.

"Hey man." Dean called out, making Ash stop and turn around.

"Yeah?"

"By the way, I, uh... I dig the haircut."

Ash grinned and tossed his hair over his shoulder, "All business up front, party in the back." He said, leaving the room. Sam noticed a folder sitting on the counter behind Ellen.

"Hey, Ellen, what is that?" She looked at where he was pointing.

"It's a police scanner. We keep tabs on things—"

"No, no, no, no. The folder." She walked over to it and picked it up

"Uh... I was gonna give this to a friend of mine, but take a look if you want."

"Thanks." Sam said taking the folder from her. Dean walked away uninterested and went to join Jo at another table. Harry on the other hand stayed with Sam and looked over his shoulder at the files.

Sam and Harry looked through the files before looking at each other and then calling Dean over. "Dean, come here. Check this out."

"Yeah?" Dean asked, walking over to them.

"A few murders not far from here that Ellen caught wind of—looks to me like there might be a hunt."

"Yeah, so?"

"So I told her we'd check it out."

* * *

"You've gotta be kidding me. A killer clown?" Dean asked as he drove, glancing at Harry in the mirror when he sniggered.

"Yeah, he left the daughter unharmed and killed the parents—ripped them to pieces actually." Harry gleefully told Dean, getting a disgusted look in return from both brothers.

"And this family was at some carnival that night?"

"Right, right." Sam said, turning away from Harry and back to Dean. "The Cooper Carnival."

"So how do you know we're not dealin' with some psycho in a clown suit?" Dean asked the two that seemed to know what was going on.

"Ooh! I know! The police had no viable leads and all the employees were tearin' down shop—alibi's all around. Plus, the girl said she saw a clown vanish into thin air. Police are saying trauma, of course."

"Heh, I know what Sammy's thinkin'." Dean said with a smirk.

"What?"

"'Why did it have to be clowns?'"

"Sammy! You're scared of clowns?"

"Don't call me Sammy. And give me a break, they're creepy."

"You didn't think I'd remember, did you? I mean, come on, you still burst out cryin' whenever you see Ronald McDonald on the television."

"At least I'm not afraid of flying."

"Planes crash!"

"And apparently clowns kill."

Defeated, Dean sank somewhat in his seat as Harry watched the two brothers with amusement. "So these types of murders—they ever happen before?"

"Uh, according to the file, 1981, the Bunker Brothers circus. Same M.O—it happened three different times, three different locales."

"That's weird, though. I mean, if it is a spirit, it's usually bound to a specific locale—a house or a town."

"So how's this one moving from city to city, carnival to carnival?"

"Cursed object, maybe? Spirit attaches itself to something and the carnival carries it around with them."

"Great. A paranormal scavenger hunt."

"Oooh, it'll be like Easter." Harry said excitedly in the back, getting confused looks from both brothers.

"Huh?"

"Like an easter egg hunt... Nevermind."

"This was your idea, Sam." Dean said after a couple of minutes of silence after Harry's mutter. "By the way, why is that? You were awfully quick to jump on this job."

"So?"

"It's just not like you, that's all. I thought you were all hell-bent for leather on the demon hunt."

"I don't know. I just think takin' this job—it's what Dad would have wanted us to do."

"What Dad would have wanted?"

"Yeah. So?"

"Nothin'."

* * *

The next morning they all climbed into the minivan and made their way to Cooper Carnival. After looking around, they spot two clowns and Dean grins before nudging Sam.

"Check it out—five-o." Harry sniggered as he let himself out of the car, soon to be followed by the brothers.

Sam and Harry waited by the car whilst Dean wandered off to get information about the possible killer. A small person dressed in colourful clothes approached them, stared at Sam strangely and then walked away. Soon Dean met back up with them.

"Did you get her number?" Dean asked, which Sam pointedly ignored.

"More murders?"

"Two more last night. Apparently, they were ripped to shreds, and they had a little boy with them."

"Who fingered a clown." Dean and Harry looked at him strangely for the weird comment, which made Sam blush. "What?"

"Yes, a clown, who apparently vanished into thin air."

"Dean, you know, looking for a cursed object—it's like tryin' to find a needle in a stack of needles. It could be anything."

"Well, it's bound to give of EMF, so we'll just have to scan everything."

"Oh good. That's nice and inconspicuous."

"I we'll just have to blend in." Dean said noticing a Help Wanted sign.

"Oh no. I have a job. I don't work for mortals." Harry said shaking his head.

"Well you either get a job or go invisible. Up to you."

"Fine, I'll get a damn job."

"Good for you, now where's the owner?"

* * *

Their search for the elusive Mr Cooper lead them to a tent, which they entered. A man, wearing sunglasses, was throwing knives against the wall.

"Excuse me." The man stopped. "We're lookin' for a Mr Cooper. Have you seen him around.

"What is that—some kind of joke?" The man asked, taking off his glasses and revealing that he was blind. Harry tried to cover a smirk on his face, as Dean looked completely horrified.

"Oh, God, I'm sorry, I-I didn't—"

"You think I wouldn't give my eye-teeth to see Mr Cooper or a sunset or anything at all?"

Dean turned to Sam and Harry, pleading, "Wanna give me a little help here?"

"Not really."

"Nope."

"Hey, Barry, is there a problem?" They all turned to see another small person enter the tent. He was dressed in a flamboyant outfit, complete with sequined cape.

"Yeah, this guy hates blind people."

"No, I don't"

"Hey buddy, what's your problem?"

"Nothing, it's just a little misunderstanding."

"Little? You son of a bitch!"

"No, no, no! Could somebody tell me where Mr Cooper is?" Dean pleaded, whilst Sam and Harry cracked up as they watched them gang up on Dean. "Please?"

* * *

At Mr Cooper's office, all four, including Mr Cooper himself, entered and walked over to the desk.

"You boys picked a hell of a time to join up. Take a seat. We got all kinds of local trouble." He had two chairs for them to sit in; one was a regular chair, which Dean quickly grabbed and sat down on whilst the other was built like a clown. Smirking, Harry motioned for Sam to take the seat with a smirk on his face, which Sam reluctantly did, looking very uncomfortable. Harry just stayed standing behind Sam's chair.

"What do you mean?" Dean asked once everyone bar Harry was seated.

"A couple of folks got themselves murdered. Cops always seem to start here first. So, you three every work the circuit before?"

"Uh, yes, sir—last year through Texas and Arkansas."

"Doing what? Ride Jockeys? Pull shoot? A-and-S men?"

"Yeah, a little bit of everything."

Mr Cooper paused and looked at them sharply. "You three have never worked a show in your lives before, have you?"

"Nope. But we really need the work. And Sam here's got a thing for the bearded lady." Dean said, laughing as Sam glared at him.

"You see that picture?" He asked, pointing to the framed photo next to him. "That's my daddy."

"You look just like him." Harry said politely, looking at the photo with the two brothers.

"He was in the business—ran a freak show 'til they outlawed 'em most places. Apparently, displaying the deformed isn't dignified. So, most of the performers went from honest work to rotting in hospitals and asylums. That's progress, I guess. You see, this place is a refuge for outcasts, always has been, for folks that don't fit in nowhere else. But you three... you should go to school, find a couple of girls, have 2.5 kids—live regular."

"Sir... we don't want to go to school. And we don't want regular. We want this." Dean looked at Sam curiously, then turned back to Mr Cooper just as he gave them the job.

* * *

"Huh." Dean said, as they were walking away from Mr Cooper's trailer.

"What?"

"That whole, uh, 'I don't wanna go back to school' thing—you just sayin' that to Cooper, or were you... you know, sayin' it?" Sam didn't say anything and Dean looked at him a bit more closely. "Sam?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know? I thought that once the demon was dead and the fat lady sings that you were gonna take off, head back to Wussy State."

"I'm havin' second thoughts."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I think... Dad would have wanted me to stick with the job."

"Since when do you give a damn what Dad wanted? You spent half you life doin' exactly what he didn't want, Sam."

"Since he died. Okay? You have a problem with that?"

"No, I don't have a problem at all."

"And besides. I can't leave Harry alone with you. You'd end up killing each other."

"Hey, Immortal here." Harry piped up, not liking the fact that Sam seemed to think he was so easy to kill off. Which he really wasn't.

"You know what I mean."

"Who's to say I don't want to go to college?" Harry asked indignantly.

"Are you even qualified?"

"No." Harry muttered and then pouted when Sam looked at him as if to say 'well then' and Dean snickered.

* * *

The next day, dressed out in Carnival jackets, Sam, Dean and Harry wander around, Sam and Harry staying together whilst Dean wandered off alone, each with an EMF detector in their pockets.

Sam checked out a trashcan, whilst emptying it and sighed when the EMF detector stayed still.

"I'm bored."

"Same here." Sam agreed, looking at a skeleton with a noose around it's neck. He held up the EMF detector and sighed again when it did nothing.

Sam pulled out his phone and rang Dean, looking at Harry who was mindlessly waving his EMF detector around, making Sam smile.

"Hey, man." Harry looked up as Sam spoke and wandered closer.

"What's the matter? You sound like you just saw a clown." Harry heard the tinny voice of Dean say, making him snort in laughter.

"Very funny. Skeleton actually." Sam said after a moment's silence.

"Like a real human skeleton?"

"In the funhouse. Listen, I was thinking what if the spirit isn't attached to a cursed object? What it it's attached to its own remains."

"Did the bones give off EMF?"

"Well, no, but—"

"We should check it out anyway. I'm headin' to you." Dean told him before hanging up. Sam sighed again and turned to Harry.

"He's coming to us."

"I heard."

"This is boring."

"This is life. Can you imagine doing this everyday? Makes me glad I'm dead."

"Really? You're happy you're dead?"

"Yup. No worries, no problems, no debt. Life for me is good."

"Really? No worries?"

"Well there is one worry, but it's minor in the overall take of things."

"Fair enough. Where is Dean? The carnival isn't that big." Sam muttered, waving his EMF randomly over another skeleton.

"Maybe he's been held up."

"Hmm. Maybe."

"So why did you leave?"

"Huh? Oh, I had my reasons. Oh look. Dean!" Harry said, pointing to Dean walking towards them.

"What took you so long?"

"Long story. Short version, I got held up by super hearing Barry."

"Mommy, look at the clown." All three turn to see a girl pointing to something a few feet away.

"What clown? Come on, sweetie. Come on." The woman led her daughter away and they exchanged a look, not seeing any clown.

* * *

"Dean, I cannot believe you told Barry Papazian about the homicidal phantom clown." Sam said later that night as they pulled up outside of the little girl's home.

"I told him an urban legend about a homicidal phantom clown. I never said it was real." Dean said, picking up a shotgun.

"Put that down." Sam hissed, grabbing the gun out of Dean's hands.

"Oh, and get this. I mentioned the Bunker Brothers Circus in '81 and their evil clown apocalypse. Guess what?"

"What?"

"Before Mr Cooper owned Cooper Carnival, he worked for Bunker Brothers. He was their lot manager."

"So you think whatever spirit is attached to, Cooper just brought it with him?"

"Somethin' like that." Dean paused, looking at the house. "I can't believe we keep talkin' about clowns."

* * *

A few hours later, the girl's house was dark. Dean and Sam were asleep in the minivan whilst Harry watched the house. Suddenly the light in the living room of the house was turned on.

Harry shook the two brothers awake. "Dean. Sam." The brothers wake up and watch the girl. She passed through the living room and went to open her front door. The clown from the carnival is standing there."

"Come on." Sam whispered, all three climbed out of the car and made their way into the house.

They opened the window to the living room and crept through the halls, waiting for the girl to come to them with the clown.

"Wanna see mommy and daddy?" They heard the girl come toward them and Dean readied the gun. "They're upstairs" They turned the corner and faced them, Sam grabbed the girl away from the clown and shielded her.

"Hey!" The clown turned to Dean, who shot him with rock salt. The clown collapsed onto the floor whilst the girl screamed. The clown then got up once again. "Sam, watch out!" Dean shouted, Sam pushed the girl to Harry, who caught her and placed her behind him. Before Dean could shoot the clown, it disappeared and crashed through the glass door. Just as that happened, the girls parents arrived on the scene.

"What's going one here?"

"Ah." Harry said, glancing behind him at the young girl and then over at Dean and Sam, who looked equally shocked and sheepish.

"Oh my god! What are you doing to my daughter?" The mother shrieked, grabbing the girl away from a stunned Harry.

"Who the hell are you?"

"Get out! Get out of my house!" Sam, Dean and Harry ran out of the house and to where they parked the car near some woods. They removed the license plates and packed them in their bags.

"You really think they saw our plates?"

"I'll take the chance. Besides, I hate this freakin' thing anyway." Dean muttered, glaring at the car as they grabbed their bags and began to walk down a very long stretch of road. "Well one thing's for sure."

"What's that?" Harry asked, shrugging the bag on his shoulder.

"We're not dealin' with a spirit. That rock salt hit somethin' solid."

"Yeah, a person. Or maybe a creature that can make itself invisible."

"Yeah, and dresses up like a clown for kicks? Did it say anything in Dad's journal?"

"Nope." Sam said, pulling out his phone and dialling a number.

"Who you callin'?"

"Maybe Ellen or that guy Ash will know somethin'. Hey, you think, uh... you think Dad and Ellen ever had a thing?"

"No way." Dean said, shaking his head.

"Then why didn't he tell us about her?"

"I don't know. Maybe they had some sort of fallin' out."

"Yeah. You ever notice Dad had a fallin' out with just about everybody?" Dean stayed silent and Sam rolled his eyes. "Don't get all maudlin on me, man."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean this strong, silent thing of yours. It's crap. I'm over it. This isn't just anyone we're talkin' about. This is dad. I know how you felt about the man."

"You know what, back off, all right? Just because I'm not caring and sharing like you want me to—"

"No, no, no. That's not what this is about, Dean. I don't care how you deal with this, but you have to deal with it, man. Listen, I'm your brother, all right? I just want to make sure you're okay."

"Dude, I'm okay. I'm okay! I swear, the next person who asks me if I'm okay, I'm gonna start throwin' punches. These are your issues. Quit dumpin' 'em on me." They stop walking and turn to face each other. Harry watched them, shuffling uncomfortably.

"What are you talkin' about?"

"I just think it's really interesting, this sudden obedience you have to Dad. It's like, 'Oh, what would Dad want me to do?'. Sam, you spent your entire life sluggin' it out with that man. I mean, hell, you picked a fight with him the last time you ever saw him, and now that he's dead, now you want to make it right? Well, I'm sorry, Sam, but you can't. It's too little, too late."

"Why are you sayin' this to me?"

"Because I want you to be honest with yourself about this! I'm dealin' with Dads death! Are you?"

Sam stared at Dean in silence before looking down at his phone. "I'm gonna call Ellen." Dean watched Sam walked away and hung his head.

"Do you think I got through to him?" Dean asked without looking back at Harry, who shrugged and then looked at Dean with narrowed eyes.

"Did you get through to yourself?"

"What do you mean?" Dean asked, finally turning around the face Harry, who just looked unimpressed.

"I mean, you should listen to what you said, you're both hurting."

"Whatever."

"What shall I tell Sam about why I left?" Harry's attempt at changing the subject, seeing as he felt if he pushed any further, then Dean may actually shoot him just to shut him up, was met with a slightly blank look from Dean.

"Huh?"

"He keeps asking why I left. As does Hank come to think of it. What do I tell them?"

"Tell them what you like."

"So you won't mind if I tell the truth?"

"No. Why should I?"

"No reason. Think Sam will be happy to learn that you are the reason why I left?"

"I think Sam wouldn't care." Dean muttered with a shrug, turning back around and starting to walk towards Sam, who was walking back to them.

"Sam wouldn't care what?" Sam asked, walking over to them.

"Nothing. What did Ellen have to say?"

"Rakshasa."

"Bless you." Harry said automatically, getting a scathing look from Sam.

"What's that?" Dean asked, grinning slightly at Harry's teasing of his brother.

"Ellen's best guess. It's a race of ancient Hindu creatures. They appear in human form they feed on human flesh, they can make themselves invisible, and they cannot enter a home without first being invited to."

"They dress up like clowns, and children invite 'em in."

"Yeah."

"Why don't they just munch on the kids?"

"No idea. Not enough meat on the bones, maybe."

"Ew." Harry wrinkled his nose and ignored the laugh it brought from Sam.

"What else did you find out?"

"Well, apparently, rakshasas live in squalor. They sleep on a bed of dead insects."

"I say it again. Ew."

"Yeah, and they have to feed a few times every twenty to thirty years—slow metabolism, I guess."

"That makes sense—the carnival today, the Bunker Brothers in '81."

"Right. Probably more before that."

"Sam, who do we know that worked both shows?"

"Cooper?"

"Cooper."

"You know, that picture of his father—that looked just like him." Harry commented casually, tugging at a lock of his hair and narrowing his eyes at it, maybe he could use a spell to make it longer...

"You think it _was_ him?" Sam asked him and Harry jerked his attention away from his hair and back to Sam.

"Well, who knows how old he is?" Dean said, grinning at Harry, who was rubbing his head at where he had yanked at his hair.

"Did Ellen tell you how to kill them?" Harry asked, looking at Sam.

"Legend goes a dagger made out of pure brass."

"I think I know where to get one of those."

"Well, before we go stabbin' things into Cooper, we're gonna wanna make damn sure it's him."

"Oh you're such a stickler for details, Sammy. All right, I'll round up the blade. You go check if Cooper's got bedbugs."

* * *

Once the carnival had cleared out, Sam and Harry went to Cooper's trailer and picked the lock on the door.

"Where's Dean?" Harry whispered as they walked around the trailer. Sam shrugged and walked over to the bed and began to check the sheets and between the mattresses. Both stood up and froze when they heard the sound of a rifle being cocked. They turned around slowly and saw Cooper.

"What do you think you're doin?"

* * *

Dean leant against the trailer wall as he spoke with Barry about knives.

"Well, I got all kinds of knives. I don't know if I got a brass one, though."

Dean nods and follows Barry into Barry's office. Barry gestures to a large trunk on the floor. "Check the trunk."

Dean opened the trunk. When he moved some clothes on top, he was shocked to see the clown costume and wig in the trunk as well. He turns to Barry, stunned.

"You?"

"Me." Barry took his glasses off and Dean watched his face morph into a very creepy expression. Barry suddenly disappeared, leaving Dean alone in the trailer.

Dean turned to the door and tried to force it open, but it didn't budge. Suddenly a knife came flying out of nowhere and narrowly missed Dean's head. Another knife quickly followed.

"All right!" He eventually managed to barrel through the door and run outside. Sam and Harry caught up with him outside.

"Hey!"

Dean stopped and looked at Sam and Harry. "Hey."

"So, Cooper thinks we're peeping Tom's, but it's not him."

"Yeah, so I gathered. It's the blind guy. He's here somewhere."

"What? That's creepy!" Harry said, looking around him.

"Did you get the..."

"The brass blades? No. It's just been one of those days."

"I got an idea. Come on." Sam told them and the three ran to the funhouse and went inside. While they were searching, an elevator door closed, separating Dean and Harry from Sam.

"Sam!"

"Dean! Dean, find the maze, okay?" Dean and Harry looked at one another and moved through the maze, finally meeting up with Sam at a large brass organ that was playing eerie music into the funhouse. Sam was trying to remove one of the brass pipes form the organ when they caught up with him.

"Hey."

"Hey. Where is it?"

"I don't know. I mean, shouldn't we see his clothes walkin' around?" Dean asked, when suddenly another pair of knives came flying towards Dean, pinning him to the wall. "Sam!"

Sam finally managed to remove the brass pipe and looked around, dodging another airborne knife.

"Where is it?"

"I don't know."

"Me either." Harry called, noticing a lever above Dean's head, which he moved over to and pulled. Steam began to hiss out of the air vents. The steam was able to vaguely outline the creature that they were looking for.

Dean spotted it's outline standing behind Sam. "Sam! Behind you! Behind you!" Sam stuck the brass pipe into the creature, causing it to fall to the ground. Once it was dead, Dean was able to take the knives out of the wall. He then joined Sam and Harry and they could only see a pile of clothing and the brass pipe on the floor. "I hate funhouses."

* * *

Back at the Roadhouse, there were a few hunters seated at a table, cleaning their weapons, whilst Sam, Dean and Harry were sitting at the bar.

"You boys did a hell of a job. Your dad would be proud. Even if you are hangin' around with a Reaper."

"Thanks." Sam said, smiling when Harry huffed and took a sip of his drink. Jo joined them and Sam smiled at her. Dean and Jo stared at them and Harry and Sam got the hint and walked away.

"So think Dean will hit on her?"

"Honestly? I don't know anymore."

"Huh."

"So, why _did_ you leave us?"

"Oh. Well. See. Um... Hank needed me."

"Hank needed you?"

"Yep."

"So how come he came to us to find out what we did to make you leave? Nearly gave my dad a heart attack."

"He did?" Harry squeaked, coughing to clear his throat and then looking at Sam.

"Yep."

"Ah."

"Ah, indeed. Why won't you tell me the truth?"

"Because it'll make things difficult."

"For who?"

"For everyone."

"Oh. Will you ever tell me?"

"Maybe one day."

"Fair enough." Sam conceded with a sigh, though he didn't sound very happy about it. Harry nibbled his lip and then glanced around the room, before he spotted Ash across the bar.

"There's Ash." Harry pointed out after a couple moments of silence. Ash walked over to them with a laptop and placed it on the table.

"Where you guys been? I been waitin' for you."

"We were workin' a job, Ash." Sam told him, smiling at him. "Clowns?"

"Clowns? What the—"

"You got somethin' for us?" Dean asked, walking over to them and taking a seat at the table.

"Did you find the demon?" Sam asked before Ash could actually tell them anything.

"It's nowhere around, at least nowhere I can find. But if this fugly bastard raises its head, I'll know. I mean, I'm on it like divine on dog dookie."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, any of those signs or omens appear anywhere in the world, my rig will go off like a fire alarm." Ash told them, showing them the several different programs he had running on his laptop.

"You mind?" Dean went to touch the laptop, but stops when he sees Ash glaring at him. He moved his hand away smirking.

"What's up, man?"

"Ash, where did you learn to do all this?" Sam asked him, looking at the laptop's screen in slight awe.

"M.I.T., before I got bounced... for fighting." Ash admitted

"M.I.T.?"

"It's a school in Boston." Ash explained and Harry nodded his head as though he actually understood. Well he understood the school in Boston part.

"Okay. Give us a call as soon as you know somethin'?"

"Si, si, compadre." Dean took a last swig of his beer before setting it down. Ash then took a swig of it before Sam, Dean and Harry walked to the door.

"Hey, listen. If you boys need a place to stay, I got a couple of beds out back." Ellen called out to them.

"Thanks, but no. There's something' I gotta finish."

"Okay."

* * *

Sam walked over to Dean, who had returned to working on the Impala. "You were right."

"About what?"

"About me and Dad. I'm sorry that the last time I was with him, I tried to pick a fight. I'm sorry that I spent most of my life angry at him. I mean, for all I know, he died thinkin' that I hate him. So you're right. What I'm doin' right now—it is too little. It's too late. I miss him man. And I feel guilty as hell. And I'm not all right. Not at all. But neither are you. That much I know. I'll let you get back to work." Sam then moved away from the car and walked away.

Dean didn't say anything as he watched his brother walk away towards Harry. He calmly picked up a tyre iron from the ground. After a second passed, he turned around and broke. He turned to the car next to him and smashes the window. He then moved over to the Impala and swung the tyre iron, bringing it crashing down to the trunk. He did it again, repeatedly. With each blow to the trunk getting more forceful, eventually it created a large dent. After smashing the trunk several times, he dropped the tyre iron to the ground and just stared at nothing.


	4. Bloodlust

Chapter Three – Bloodlust

The Impala made its way down the road, AC/DC's 'Back In Black' playing through the stereo. The car gleamed in the sunlight as Dean sped down the highway.

"Woo! Listen to her purr. You ever heard anything so sweet?" Dean exclaimed excitedly, Harry rolled his eyes in the back and Sam looked at Dean with an amused grin on his face.

"You know if you two wanna get a room, just let us know, Dean." Sam told him and Harry placed his hand in front of him mouth to cover his amused grin.

"Oh, don't listen to him, baby. He doesn't understand us." Dean said, petting the dashboard and ignoring the choked laughter coming from Harry.

"You're in a good mood."

"Why shouldn't I be?"

"No reason."

"I got my car, got a case—things are lookin' up." Dean told him with a wide smile.

"Wow. Give you a couple of severed heads and a pile of dead cows, and you're Mr Sunshine." Sam said, getting a chuckle from both Dean and Harry.

"How far to Red Lodge?" Harry asked from the back seat of the Impala.

"Uh, about another three hundred miles." Sam said, looking at the map in front of him.

"Good." Dean said, stepping on the gas and speeding down the road.

* * *

When they got to the two they were searching for, they decided to pose as newspaper reporters and went to visit the local police sheriff. Harry on the other hand, having had enough of wearing suits, decided to go in invisible, claiming that three reporters together would look weird.

"The murder investigation is ongoing, and that's all I can share with the press at this time." The sheriff told them, Sam writing down notes in his notebook whilst Harry wandered around the office, slightly bored.

"Sure, sure, we understand that. But just for the record, you found the first head last week, correct?"

"Do you know how strange that question sounded?" Harry asked, picking up a small figurine from a shelf and putting it in his pocket.

"Yes." The sheriff agreed with Sam, not at all aware of his disappearing objects.

"And the other, a Christina Flannigan?"

"That was two days ago." The sheriff told them, when there was a knock on the door and a young woman entered, making Harry quickly move to stand flush against Sam. The woman pointed to her watch and the sheriff sighed. "Sorry boys, time's up. We're done here."

"One last question." Sam asked, trying to inch away from a clingy Harry in the somewhat cramped room.

"Stay still."

"What about the cattle?" Dean asked, ignoring his brother and Harry.

"Excuse me?"

"You know, the cows found dead, split open, drained—over a dozen cases."

"What about them?"

"So you don't think there's a connection?" Sam asked, discreetly elbowing Harry in the stomach.

"Ow." Harry whined, pouting and rubbing his stomach.

"Connection with..."

"First cattle mutilations, now two murders? Kind of sounds like ritual stuff." Sam pointed out, ignoring the sulking reaper next to him.

"You know, like satanic cult ritual stuff." Dean added. The sheriff stared at them for a second before bursting into a fit of laughter. Sam and Dean exchanged a look and the sheriff stopped laughing when he realised they were being serious.

"You're not kidding."

"No."

"Those cows aren't being mutilated. You want to know how I know?"

"How?"

"Because there's no such thing as cattle mutilation. Cow drops, leave it in the sun, within forty-eight hours the bloat will split it open so clean, it's just about surgical. The bodily fluids fall down into the ground, get soaked up, 'cause that's what gravity does. But, hey, it could be Satan. What newspaper did you say you worked for?"

"_World Weekly News._"

"_Weekly World News._"

"_World-_"

"_Weekly World._"

"I'm new." Dean said with a shrug, ignoring the laughter coming from Harry and the sigh from the sheriff.

"Get out of my office."

* * *

After visiting the sheriff's office they went to the county hospital to look at the body. When they entered the autopsy room they saw another employee in there. Dean looked at his ID around his neck but it only said J. Manners.

"John—"

"Jeff."

"Jeff." Dean said with a chuckle. "I know that. Dr Dorkin needs to see you in his office right away."

"But Dr Dorkin's on vacation." Jeff said, frowning in confusion. Harry sniggered behind Sam, still invisible to everyone else bar the Winchesters.

"Well, he's back. And he's pissed and he's screamin' for you, man. So if I were you, I would—"

"Okay." Jeff said, quickly leaving the room at a run.

"Okay." Dean waited until the door closed "Hey, those Satanists in Florida—they marked their victims, didn't they?"

"Yeah, reverse pentacle on the forehead." Harry told them, getting surprised looks from both brothers. "What? I know things."

Dean shrugged and handed Sam a pair of latex gloves. "So much F'ed up crap happens in Florida." Dean muttered. They opened one of the compartments and slide out the table inside. Lying on the table was a girl who was killed in the woods. Her head was in a plastic bin next to her body. "All right. Open it."

"You open it."

"Wuss." Dean muttered, bringing the bin over to another table and opening it, revealing the girls severed head. "Well, no pentagram."

"Wow. Poor girl."

"Maybe we should, uh, look in her mouth, see if this wacko stuffed anything down her throat. You know, kind of like the moth in 'Silence of the Lambs'." Dean said with a chuckle.

"Yeah, yeah, go ahead."

"No, you go ahead."

"What?"

"'Put the lotion in the basket.'" Dean said with a smirk.

"Right, yeah, I'm the wuss, huh? Whatever." Sam cleared his throat and opened the girl's mouth, feeling around it with his hands. "Dean, get me the bucket."

"Find somethin'?"

"No, I'm gonna puke." Dean ignored him and looked closely at the girl. Sam removed his hand from her mouth, looking disgusted.

"Oh for the love—you are ridiculous, both of you. Let me do it." Harry said, moving Sam out of the way and shoving on a pair of latex gloves.

"All right, lift up her lip again." Dean told Harry once he had gotten his gloves on and was prodding at the head.

"Why?"

"I think I saw something'" Harry rolled his eyes and lifted the girls lip up, looking at her gums, which seemed to have small ridges in them. "What is that, a hole?" Dean leant forward and pushed on the gums, and a fang appeared above her set of normal teeth.

"It's a tooth." Sam said, leaning over Harry to get a better look.

"Sam, that's a fang. It's a retractable set of vampire fangs, you gotta be kiddin' me."

"This changes things."

"You think?"

* * *

Later that night, they decided to go to a bar, with Harry being visible, and unfortunately, only looking in his late teens, and thus, not old enough to drink, much to the amusement of the Winchesters. They walked up to the bartender, ignoring an African-American man that was eying them suspiciously.

"How's it goin'?" Dean asked the bartender, leaning on the bar.

"Livin' the dream. What can I get for you?"

"Two beers and a lemonade please." Dean asked, smirking at the grumble from Harry. The bartender nodded, glancing at Harry and then going to get the drinks.

"So, we're lookin' for some people." Sam said, when the bartender handed them their drinks.

"Sure. It's hard to be lonely." Sam smiled while Harry rolled his eyes.

"Yeah. But, um—that's not what I meant." Sam said, taking a twenty out of his jacket and placing it in front of the bartender, who took it. "Great. So, these people wouldn't have moved here about six months ago. Probably pretty rowdy, like to drink."

"Yeah, real night owls, you know? Sleep all day, party all night."

"Barker Farm got leased out a couple of months ago. Real winners. They've been in here a lot. Drinkers, noisy. I had to 86 'em once or twice."

"Thanks." Dean said, glancing at Harry and Sam. They finished their drinks and then left the bar.

Outside the bar, as Sam and Dean make their way back to the car, the man from the bar followed them carefully. He followed them around the side of the building but doesn't know where they went. When he turned around, they were suddenly standing next to him, and they managed to pin him against the wall with Dean holding a knife to the man's throat.

"Smile." Dean said with a grin, Harry rolled his eyes behind him.

"What?"

"Show us those pearly whites."

"Oh for the love of—you wanna stick that thing someplace else? I'm not a vampire. Yeah, that's right. I heard you guys in there."

"What do you know about vampires."

"How to kill 'em. Now seriously, bro. That knife's making me itch." The man tried to move but Sam kept him pinned against the wall.

"Hey!"

"Whoa. Easy there, Chachi." He lifted up with upper lip to show them his perfectly normal gums. "See? Fangless. Happy?" Dean and Sam moved away from him, but Harry kept an eye on him, still not trusting him entirely. "Now who the hell are you?"

* * *

They went to the man, who it turned out was called Gordon, talking about hunting and telling him who they were. They stopped at Gordon's car and looked at each other.

"Sam and Dean Winchester." He took out the arsenal that he had hidden between the seats. "I can't believe it. You know, I met your old man once—hell of a guy, great hunter. I heard he passed. I'm sorry. It's big shoes, but from what I hear, you guys fill 'em – great trackers, good in a tight spot. You on the other hand. I haven't heard anything about."

"Yeah? Well that's a shame."

"You seem to know a lot about our family." Dean said, cutting into the soon to be argument between Harry and Gordon.

"Well, word travels fast. You know how hunters talk."

"No, we don't, actually."

"I guess there's a lot your dad never told you, huh?" Gordon said, making Dean very confused about the comment.

"So, uh—so, those two vampires – they were yours right?" Sam asked suddenly, taking the attention away from both Dean and Harry, who was still glaring at Gordon.

"Yup. Been here two weeks."

"Did you check out that Barker Farm?"

"It's a bust. Just a bunch of hippie freaks. Though they could kill you with that patchouli smell alone."

"Where's the nest then?" Dean asked. Gordon smiled as he slid the arsenal back into his car.

"I got this one covered. Look, don't get me wrong, it's a real pleasure meetin' you fellas. But I've been on this thing for over a year. I killed a fang back in Austin, tracked the nest all the way up here. I'll finish it."

"We could help."

"Thanks, but I'm kind of a go-it-alone type of guy."

"Come on, man, I've been itchin' for a hunt."

"Sorry. But hey, I hear there's a chupacabra two states over. Go ahead and knock yourselves out." Gordon told them, getting into his car. "It was real good meetin' you, though. I'll buy you a drink on the flipside." Gordon then closed his door and drove away, leaving the three of them confused.

* * *

Later that night, they got word of a new and somewhat strange worker at the mill, who only worked the night shift. Automatically warning bells went off in their heads and they decided to check it out.

"So think it's a vampire?"

"Could be." Harry said with a shrug, following behind Dean.

Ahead of them, a struggle could be heard, making all three glance at each other and then head towards the sounds of struggle. What they found dumbfounded all of them before Dean kicked into motion. Gordon was being forced onto a chopping machine, with the vampire bringing the lever down.

Dean quickly moved forwards, grabbing the vampire and dragging Gordon off the chopping machine, before he quickly shoved the vampire down onto it and beheaded the vampire, blood spurting into his face.

"So, uh, I guess I gotta buy you that drink." Gordon stated, looking a bit stunned. Dean didn't say anything, instead looking at a concerned Sam blankly.

* * *

Later, they were all sitting at a table in the bar, the waitress bringing over the second lot of drinks for the night. Harry watched Gordon suspiciously, sticking close to Sam. Dean pulled his wallet out as the waitress placed the last drink on the table, but Gordon stopped him.

"No, no. I got it."

"Come on."

"I insist." Gordon placed the money on the waitress' tray. "Thank you sweetie." As she left, Gordon and Dean raised their shot glasses. "Another one bites the dust."

"That's right." As they both downed their shots, Sam and Harry watched on silently, a frown on Sam's face.

"Dean. You gave that big-ass fang one hell of a haircut, my friend."

"Thank you." Dean said, chuckling.

"That was beautiful. Absolutely beautiful."

"Yep." Dean finally glanced at his brother and noticed his less than impressed expression. "You all right, Sammy?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Harry?"

"Huh? Oh, just thinking."

"Well lighten up a little, Sammy, Harry." Gordon told them, making Harry look at him through narrowed eyes whilst Sam stiffened next to him.

Sam glanced at Gordon, and then nodded to Dean. "He's the only one that's allowed to call me that."

"Okay. No offence meant. Just celebratin' a little job well done."

"Right. Well, um.. decapitations aren't my idea of a good time, I guess."

"Oh, come on, man. It's not like it was human. You've gotta have a little more fun with your job."

Dean snapped his fingers and looked at Gordon. "See, that's what I've been trying to tell him." He then turned to Sam. "You could learn a thing or two from this guy."

Sam narrowed his eyes and glanced at Dean. "Yeah, I bet I could, Look, I'm not gonna bring you guys down. I'm just gonna go back to the motel."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Sammy." Sam turned around and caught the keys Dean threw at him. "Remind me to beat that buzzkill outta you later, all right.?" Sam then turned around and left the bar.

"Something I said?"

"No, no. He just gets that way sometimes. I'll tell you what." Dean held up his shot glass, not noticing Harry roll his eyes. "Match quarters for the next round."

* * *

"So I picked up this crossbow and I hit that ugly sucker with a silver tipped arrow, right in his heart." Gordon grinned and Harry sighed quietly, looking at his drink and wishing it were a little stronger. "Sammy's waiting in the car, and then me and my dad take the thing into the woods, burn it to a crisp. I'm sitting there, and I'm lookin' into the fire, and I'm thinkin' to myself... 'I'm sixteen years old. Kids my age are worried about pimples, prom dates.. and I'm seein' things that they'll never even know, never even dram of.' So right then, just sort of..."

"Embraced the life?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

"Yeah" Dean said again, getting a chuckle from Gordon. "How'd you get started?"

"First time I saw a vampire, I was barely eighteen. Home alone with my sister. I hear the window break in her room I grabbed my dad's gun, run in, try to get it off her. It was too late. So I shoot the damned thing, which, of course is about as useful as snappin' it with a rubber band." Dean smirked and Harry looked around the bar for something more interesting. Why hadn't he left with Sam? "It rushes me, picks me up, flings me across the room, knocks me out cold. When I wake up, the vampire's gone—my sisters gone."

"And then?"

"And then... try explaining that to your family. So I left home. And then bummer around lookin' for information – how you track 'em, how you kill 'em. And I found that fang. It was my first kill."

"Sorry about your sister."

"Yeah. She was beautiful. I can still see her, you know, the way she was. But hey, that was a long time ago. I mean, your dad – its gotta be rough."

"Yeah. Yeah, you know, he was just one of those guys. Took some terrible beatings – just kept comin'. So you're always saying to yourself, 'he's indestructible. He'll always be around. Nothin' can kill my dad.' And just like that... He's gone." Dean paused and Harry glanced at him in concern. "I can't talk about this to Sammy. No I gotta keep my game face on. But, uh, the truth is, I'm not handling it very well. I feel like I have this..."

"Hole inside you? And it just gets bigger and bigger and darker and darker?" Dean nods. "Good. You can use it – keeps you hungry. Trust me, there's plenty out there needs killin' and this will help you do it. Dean, it's not a crime to need your job."

"You know why I love this life?" Gordon asked suddenly after they had all sat in contemplative silence for a few minutes.

"Hm?"

"It's all black and white. There's no maybe. Find a bad thing, kill it. Most people spend their lives in shades of grey. Is this right? Is that wrong? Not us."

"Not sure Sammy would agree with you, but..."

"Doesn't seem like your brother's much like us." Gordon pointed out and Dean's smile faded whilst Harry glared at Gordon. "I'm not saying he's wrong... just different. But you and me? We were born to do this. It's in our blood." Dean looked at him strangely and Harry sighed then stood up, getting the attention of the two hunters.

"You alright, Harry?" Dean asked, looking like he genuinely wanted to know, which threw Harry slightly.

"Yeah, I'm just gonna go see if Sam is alright."

"Okay then. I'll be back later."

"Okay."

"Why'd you have him with you?" Harry heard Gordon ask as he left the bar, he didn't hear Dean's answer.

* * *

Harry entered the motel with a frown. The lights were off and Sam was nowhere to be found, despite the fact that the Impala was still parked outside.

"Sam?" Harry called, walking into the motel room slowly and cautiously looking around him.

"You in here?" Harry turned the lights on and frowned when he saw that he was alone.

"Sam's not here." Harry nearly shot out of his skin when someone spoke behind him. Harry spun around and looked at the man standing behind him,

"Sanguini?"

"Yeah."

"What are you doing here? More to the point, how did you find me? No one even knows I'm _alive_ no matter where I am."

"All of us that are a little... Supernaturally inclined, know that you are Death's Chosen. We just weren't sure where you were. However, I know Hank as well. And I knew you were with the Winchester's." Sanguini told him in his usual, calm and quiet voice.

"So, why are you here?"

"To ask a favour."

"What?"

"Stop killing the vampires."

"Why? I mean, I'll admit, I don't agree with what Gordon and Dean are doing, but why do you want me to stop them? Besides the obvious."

"They aren't killing humans."

"Good reason." Harry admitted and then wrinkled his nose when he thought how hard it was going to be to stop Dean from his vampire killing rampage he seemed to be on.

"Harry, you know that vampires can survive without killing humans."

"I know. What do you want me to do?"

"Stop them from killing us."

"Where's Sam?"

"With my fellow vampires. They are asking him the same thing."

"So with us both harping on at Dean, you hope he'll listen?"

"Something like that."

"Is Sam alright?"

"He will be fine. Don't worry, we know not to go against you."

"Good."

"So will you do it?"

"Of course I will. I'm sort of worried about Dean anyway. He's not taking the death of his father very well. I think he might be taking it out on the local oogie boogies. Warn your coven."

"I will, thank you, Harry Potter."

"Anytime. So, you're finally away from your human then?"

"Yes, he died in the war so I have been free since your death."

"Oh, sorry." Harry said, not really knowing what else to say to the vampire.

"It is fine, Mr Potter, I am now free to roam as you are doing."

"So you have a new coven? How's that going for you?"

"It is nice. I have never met a group of vampires that have the same ideals as me. So please help us."

"I will. Though you had better be going soon, you don't want to be here when Dean comes back. He doesn't like um... people different from him. It took him an age to get used to me. In fact I don't think he really is used to me fully. Yet."

"Yes, I heard you had left them for a while. Have you told Hank the true reason?"

"Are you kidding? Hank would kill Dean."

"So Dean is the reason you left?"

"Yes, and if I find out you told Hank I won't be impressed. And you know reapers have ways of finding anyone they are looking for."

"I won't tell anyone. I had better be going. I shall return Sam to you soon."

"Thank you."

"Anytime, Harry." And with that Sanguini left the room. Harry was thankful he left when he did, for seemingly just as the door closed behind Sanguini, the door opened again and Dean walked in with Gordon following behind.

"Hey. We came to look over a map to try and see any patterns."

"Right. Why bother? Have the vampires actually killed any humans?" Harry asked casually, or he hoped it was casually, looking at Gordon, who just looked back at him with a look of confusion on his face.

"Why should that make a difference?"

"It makes all the difference."

"Well it doesn't to me, kid. So sit out of it and keep your mouth shut." Gordon growled at him. Harry glared at Gordon and then slumped on Sam's bed, picking at the cover.

"Hey, he's young, leave him be." Dean said, ruffling Harry's hair and getting a glare for his efforts.

Gordon shrugged and then rolled out a map on the table. "Sure, whatever. Now, this is the best pattern I can establish. It's sketchy, at best."

"Looks like it's all coming from this side of town, which means the nest would be around here someplace, right?" Dean said, looking over the map and pointing at a spot on it.

"Yeah, that's what I'm thinking. Problem is, there's thirty-five, forty farms out there. I've searched about half of 'em already but nothing yet. They're coverin' their tracks real good."

"I guess we'll just have to search the other half." Gordon grinned and Dean checked his watch before turning to Harry. "What time is it? Where's Sam?"

"He went out for a walk." Harry said with a shrug, ignoring Gordon, who glanced at him. Dean was about to say something when the door opened and Sam walked in.

"Where you been?"

"Can I talk to you alone?" Harry asked before Sam even had a chance to speak. Looking confused but nodding, Sam and Harry walked outside the motel room and stood outside.

"What's up, Harry?"

"I know where you were."

"What?"

"I knew that you were in a nest. I spoke with one of the vampires. In fact I knew him when I was alive."

"What?"

"You heard me. So we have to work out how to tell Dean this and stop them from killing the vampires. It's not fair."

"I know. This goes against everything I know and was taught. Dean is not going to be easy to convince."

"You're telling me. You weren't the one left alone with those two. Speaking as an Oogie Boogie, it makes me uncomfortable talking about killing monsters a little."

"I'll go call Dean out."

"Okay." Harry watched Sam as he went back into the motel room and then came back out a couple of minutes later, followed by Dean.

"Dean, we've been talking, maybe we've gotta rethink this hunt."

"What are you talkin' about? Where were you?"

Sam paused for a moment before answering the question. "In the nest."

"You found it?"

"They found me, man."

"How'd you get out? How many did you kill?" Dean asked, a little too eagerly for Harry's comfort.

"None."

"Well, Sam, they didn't just let you go."

"That's exactly what they did."

"All right, well, where is it?"

"I was blindfolded, I don't know."

"Well, you've gotta know somethin'."

"We went over that bridge outside of town, but Dean, listen, maybe we shouldn't go after 'em. Harry agrees with me." Sam told him, motioning to Harry at his side.

"Does he?" Dean asked with a narrow look at Harry, who just looked back at him, unimpressed and not in the least intimidated.

"Yeah, I do. We should just leave them be."

"Why?"

"I don't think they're like other vampires. I don't think they're killing people."

"They're not." Harry agreed, getting a funny look from Dean.

"You're joking." Sam looked at him pleadingly, "Then how do they stay alive? Or undead, or whatever the hell they are?"

"The cattle mutilations. They will be living off of animal blood." Harry told him, ignoring the look Dean sent him.

"And you believed 'em? How did you know anyway?"

"I know one of them. Sanguini is his name. He told me everything they told Sam. Well probably more. They live off of cows blood."

"You _know_ one of them?"

"Yeah, from before I died. He was – owned I suppose, by someone I met."

"But he's not owned anymore?"

"No, the wizard died in the war I fought." Harry told him with a shrug.

"Look at me, Dean. They let me go without a scratch."

"Wait, so you're sayin'... no man. No way. I don't know why they let you go, I don't really care. We find 'em and we waste 'em." Dean began to walk away.

"Why?" Sam asked. Dean stopped and turned around to face them.

"What part of 'vampires' don't you understand, Sam? If it's supernatural, we kill it. End of story, that's out job." Dean said, making Harry flinch away and stand closer to Sam, who sighed.

"No Dean, that is not our job. Our job is hunting _evil_. And if these things aren't killing people, they're not evil."

"Of course they're killing people! That's what they do. They're all the same Sam. They're not human, okay? We have to exterminate every last one of 'em."

"No, Dean, I don't think so, all right? Not this time."

"Gordon's been on those vamps for a year, man. He knows."

"Gordon?"

"Yes."

"You taking _his_ word for it?"

"That's right."

"Ellen says he's bad news."

"You called Ellen?" Dean asked incredulously, Sam nodded his head. "And I'm supposed to listen to her? We barely know her, Sam. No thanks, I'll go with Gordon."

"Right, 'cause Gordon's such an old friend. You don't think I can see what this is?"

"What are you talking about?"

"He's a substitute for Dad, isn't he? A poor one."

"Shut up, Sam." Dean said, walking away.

"He's not even close, Dean. Not on his best day." Dean turned back around, looking at Sam incredulously.

"You know what, I not even gonna—"

"You know what, you slap on his big, fake smile, but I can see right through it, 'cause I know how you feel, Dean! Dad's dead! And he left a hole, and it hurts so bad you can't take it, but you can't just fill up that hole with whomever you want to! It's an insult to his memory."

"Okay." Dean answered after a slight pause, he then turned to go, then quickly spun around and punched Sam. Harry stood in shock before quickly going to Sam and helping his to stand.

"You can hit me all you want. It won't change anything." Sam said, slightly stunned as he leant on Harry slightly, Harry looking at Dean with narrow eyes that glowed with suppressed anger and made Dean shudder slightly before he turned away from the stare.

"I'm going to that nest. You don't wanna tell me where it is? Fine. I'll find it myself."

"Dean." When they got back into the room, Gordon was gone, which made Harry narrow his eyes as Dean and Sam looked around the room.

"Gordon?"

"You think he went after 'em?" Sam asked nervously.

"Probably."

"Dean, we have to stop him."

"Really, Sam? 'Cause I say we lend a hand."

"Just give us the benefit of the doubt, would you? You owe me that." Sam told him, rubbing his jaw for effect.

"Yeah, we'll see. I'll drive, give me the keys." Sam pointed to the key rack where there were no keys.

"He snaked the keys."

* * *

Back outside, and Dean was trying to hotwire the Impala, muttering to himself furiously whilst Harry and Sam watched him.

"I can't believe this. I just fixed her up, too." The engine turned over and Dean sat up, satisfied. "So, the bridge – is that all you got?"

"The bridge was four and a half minutes from the farm." Sam told him, looking at the map.

"How do you know?"

"I counted." Sam said, ignoring the slightly stunned look on Dean's face. "We took a left out of the farm, then turned right onto a dirt road, followed that for a further two minutes slightly uphill, then took another quick right, and we hit the bridge." Sam finished, smirking at the stunned look on both their faces.

"You're good. You're a monster pain in the ass... but you're good." Dean stated and they drove away.

* * *

When they entered the farm, it was to find Gordon already there, torturing one of the female vampires. She had cuts all over her face and neck, Gordon was slicing up her collarbone when they entered.

"Sam, Dean, Harry. Come on in."

"Gordon, what's going on?"

"Just poisoning Lenore here with some dead man's blood." Gordon told them cheerfully, then he turned to Lenore. "She's gonna tell us where all her little friend are, aren't you? Wanna help?" He asked, turning to Dean.

"Look man—"

"Grab a knife. I was just about to start in on the fingers." Gordon told them, cutting Lenore's arm.

"Whoa, whoa, hey. Let's all just chill out, huh?"

"I'm completely chill."

Sam stepped forward, slowly approaching Gordon, "Gordon, put down the knife." Dean stopped him from getting any closer.

"But it sounds like its Sammy who needs to chill."

"Just step away from her, all right?" Harry said, stepping up next to Dean and Sam.

"You're right." He put the knife away, "I'm wasting my time here. This bitch will never talk. Might as well put her out of her misery." Gordon stated, taking out a much bigger knife. He then turned to Sam and grinned. "I just sharpened it, so it's completely humane."

"Gordon, I'm letting her go." Sam said, walking over to Lenore.

"You're not doing a damn thing." Gordon told him, pointing the knife at him.

"Hey, hey, Gordon, let's talk about this."

"What's there to talk about? It's like I said Dean, no shades of grey."

"Yeah, I hear you. And I know how you feel."

"Do you?"

"The vampire that killed your sister deserved to die, but—"

"Killed my sister? That filthy fang didn't kill my sister. It turned her. It made her one of them. So I hunted her down and I killed her myself."

"You did what?"

"It wasn't my sister anymore. It wasn't human. I didn't blink—and neither would you."

"You knew all along, didn't you? You knew about the vampires, you knew they weren't killing anyone. You knew about the cattle, and you just didn't care." Harry said, completely stunned when he realised the truth.

"Care about what, kid? A nest of vampires suddenly acting nice? Takin' a little time out from sucking innocent people? And we're supposed to buy that? Trust me. It doesn't change what they are. And I can prove it." He grabs Sam, much to the distress of Harry and Dean, and then cut his arm, before holding the knife to his throat.

Dean held up his gun and pointed it at Gordon, whilst Harry inched forward a little, "Let him go. Now!" Dean demanded, but Gordon ignored him.

"Relax. If I wanted to kill him, he'd already be on the floor. Just makin' a little point." Gordon told them as the blood from Sam's wound began to drip onto Lenore. She bared her fangs and hissed.

"Hey!"

"You think she's so different? Still wanna save her? Look at her. They're all the same – evil, bloodthirsty." Gordon told them just as Lenore's teeth turned back to normal and she appeared to be exhausted.

"No. No!" Lenore moaned, moving her face away from the dripping blood.

"You hear her, Gordon?"

"No! No!" As Lenore moaned, Sam shoved Gordon away from him.

"We're done here."

"Sam, get her out of here."

"Yeah." Sam agreed and then picked Lenore up from the chair and carried her away, Harry watching, but staying with Dean. Gordon tried to move to stop them but Dean stopped him, still pointing the gun at him.

"Uh-uh! Uh-uh! Gordon... I think you and I got some things to talk about." Gordon tightened his grip on his knife and glared at Dean.

"Get out of my way."

"Sorry."

"You're not serious."

"I'm havin' a hard time believing it, too, but I know what I saw. You want those vampires, you've gotta go through me." Dean told him. Gordon glared and then stabbed his knife into the table.

"Fine."

Dean took the ammo out of his gun, whilst he was putting the gun into his pocket, Gordon punched him. When Dean punched back, Gordon grabbed the knife from the table and took a swing at Dean. He missed and Dean managed to force the knife out of Gordon's hand whilst Harry leant on the wall watching, seeing that Dean had everything under control.

"What are you doin', man? You doin' this for a fang? Come on, Dean, we're on the same side here!"

"I don't think so, you sadistic bastard. And thanks for the help, Harry." Dean grumbled as he got thrown into a table.

"Sure thing."

"What can a kid like him do to help?"

"A lot. Now give it up." Dean growled at him, making Harry beam at him for the confidence in Dean's voice.

"You're not like your brother. You're a killer, like me." Dean got back up and then spent the next few seconds beating the crap out of Gordon. After punching and kicking, he slammed Gordon's head into a wall.

"Oops. Sorry." Dean said insincerely, before slamming Gordon's head into the wall once more and then dragging him over to the chair and tying him up in it. "You know, I might be like you, and I might not. But you're the one tied up right now."

* * *

They stayed there in the vampire nest until the sun rose, Gordon tied up in the chair for the whole time. They waited for a while and then Sam walked into the barn, looking at the scene and grinning.

"Did I miss anything?"

"Nah, not much. Lenore get out okay?"

"Yeah. All of 'em did." Sam told Gordon, who glowered at Sam. Sam then turned to Harry. "Sanguini told me to tell you he says thanks."

"I'm glad he's okay." Harry said with a smile."

"Then I guess our work here is done. How you doin' Gordy? Gotta tinkle yet? All right, well get comfy. We'll call someone in two or three days, have 'em come out, untie you." Dean placed the knife out of Gordon's reach and then patted him on the shoulder.

"Ready to go, Dean, Harry?"

"Not yet. I guess this is goodbye." He laughed, facing Gordon. "It's been real." Dean then punched Gordon once more, causing the chair to fall over. He then paused and walked away, back to Sam and Harry. "Okay. I'm good now. We can go."

They walked out of the vampire's nest and walked back to the car together, Dean grabbing Harry and scruffing up his hair.

"Stop it." Harry grumbled, pulling away from Dean and hiding on the other side of Sam, much to both the Winchester's amusement.

"Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Clock me one."

"What?"

"I will." Harry piped up, getting a half-hearted glare form Dean who then ignored him and turned back to Sam.

"Come on. I won't even hit you back. Let's go." Dean said, bracing himself for a punch.

"No." Sam told him, stunned, whilst Harry sulked beside him.

"Let's go, you get a freebie! Hit me, come on."

"You look like you just went twelve rounds with a block of cement, Dean. I'll take a rain check."

"I wish we never took this job, 'cause we jacked everything up."

"What do you mean?"

"Think about all the hunts we went on, Sammy, our whole lives."

"Okay."

"What if we killed things that didn't deserve killing? You know, I mean, the way Dad raised us..."

"If it makes you feel any better, you didn't kill me." Harry piped up, getting funny looks from bother brothers.

"That would be because we have no idea how to kill a reaper. No one does." Dean told him flatly, making Harry grin sheepishly and then shrug.

"Dean, after what happened to mom, dad did the best he could."

"I know he did. But the man wasn't perfect. I mean the way he raised us to hate those things, and man, I hate 'em. I do. When I killed that vampire at the mill, I didn't even think about it. Hell I even enjoyed it."

"You didn't kill Lenore."

"Yeah, but every instinct told me to. I was gonna kill her, I was gonna kill 'em all."

"Yeah, Dean, but you didn't. And that's what matters."

"Yeah... because you're a pain in my ass." Dean told him, not entirely convinced. Sam laughed and nudged Dean's shoulder.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it." Sam told him before getting in the car with Harry. Dean looked back at the nest thoughtfully. After a moment he got in the car and they drove away.

**A/N – Well here's another chapter, and I have the internet again! Yay! I'll try and get another chapter up in about a weeks time! I've started to write it anyways. Sorry if there are any spelling errors that I've missed, I tried to find them all! Honest!**

**Thank you to everyone who's reviewed so far! And tell me what you think, thank you!**


	5. Children Shouldn't Play With Dead Things

Chapter Four – Children Shouldn't Play With Dead Things

Harry stared at the graveyard in front of him, ignoring the bickering coming from the two brothers. He couldn't help but wonder if anyone still visited his parents graves. He didn't anymore, though he had for the first two years he was dead. Once Remus had died and he left Britain, he hadn't been to see them. He had considered visiting them whilst he was hiding from the Winchester's in England, but he had decided against it. He was dead and no longer had anything to do with that side of his life anymore.

"Come on, Sam, I'm begging you. This is stupid." Dean's voice floated over to him, making his perk up in interest. Funny that it was Dean who didn't want to see the grave.

"Why?"

"Going to visit Mom's grave? I mean, she doesn't even have a grave. There was no body left after the fire."

"She has a headstone." Harry moved closer to the brothers, shamelessly listening in on the conversation.

"Yeah, put up by her uncle, a man that we've never even met. So, you wanna go pay your respects to a slab of granite put up by a stranger? Come on." Despite not normally having anything in common with Dean, Harry couldn't help but agree with Dean on that point. Then again, Harry never really did see the point in talking to a gravestone. Hence the reason he never really visited his parents grave.

"Dean, that's not the point."

"Well then, enlighten me, Sam."

"It's not about a body or a casket. It's about her memory, okay?" Harry stayed put as the two brothers stared at each other, not entirely sure he understood where Sam was coming from.

"Mm."

"And after Dad, it just—it feels like the right thing to do."

"It's irrational, that's what it is."

"Look, man, no one asked you to come." Sam snapped, making Harry glance at him in concern.

"Why don't we swing by the roadhouse instead? I mean, we haven't heard anything on the demon lately. We should be hunting that son of a bitch down."

"That's a good idea. You should. Just drop me off, I'll hitch a ride, and I'll meet you there tomorrow." Sam said, making Harry glance at him sharply, hitchhiking was never a good idea, especially for hunters, surely Sam knew that.

"Right. Stuck with those people, making awkward small talk 'til you show up? No thanks."

Sam grinned and then walked through the gates of the graveyard, Dean and Harry reluctantly following behind him. Dean having lost the fight.

"This is not a good idea." Dean muttered, getting a shrug from Harry.

"If it helps him." Harry quietly replied, getting a sigh from Dean. They followed Sam to their mother's headstone and watched as Sam dug a small hole and then took out John Winchester's dog tags from the military.

"I think, uh... I think Dad would have wanted you to have these." Sam buried them and then covered them with grass, his eyes filling with tears. "I love you, mom."

Harry watched, ignoring Dean who wandered off, and then placed his hand on Sam's shoulder comfortingly.

"She died for me. I feel like it's my fault." Sam whispered, not taking his eyes off of his mother's headstone.

"I know the feeling. I don't really have much to tell you except, it honestly does get better. She wouldn't have wanted you to live in sorrow. Neither would your father." Harry told him, Sam stood up then and looked at where Dean was making his way to them."

"Dude, you have to come and see this." Dean told them, getting confused looks from both.

"What?"

"Follow me." Dean told them and then led them through the graves until he reached one with a dead tree by it. Within a circle around the tree, everything was dead. The grave within the circle had flowers that were also dead.

"Ooh, weird." Harry stated, looking at the circle near his feet.

"I'm gonna go talk to the groundskeeper."

"Sure thing, Dean." Sam said absently, looking at the ground in front of him.

"What do you think did it?" Harry asked once Dean had gone in search of the groundskeeper.

"Not a clue. I've never seen anything like this before. Have you?"

"Nope. In my business, it's normally my fault." Harry stated bluntly, getting a small smile from Sam.

"Let's wait for Dean at the car." Sam said, and led the way back to the car.

* * *

A few minutes later, Dean came back to them, having finished talking to the groundskeeper, holding a piece of paper.

"Angela Mason. She was a student at the local college. Her funeral was three days ago."

"And?"

"'And?' You saw her grave, everything dead around it in a perfect circle. You don't think that's a little weird?"

"Maybe the groundskeeper went a little aggro with the pesticide."

"No, I asked him. No pesticide, no chemicals. Nobody can explain it."

"Okay... So what are you thinking?" Harry asked, getting into the car.

"I don't know. Unholy ground, maybe?"

"Un—?" Sam looked at them, confused.

"What, if something evil happened there, it could easily poison the ground. Remember the farm outside of Cedar Rapids."

"Yeah, but—"

"Could be the sign of a demonic presence. Or that Angela girl's spirit, if it's powerful enough." Sam looked sceptical but nodded anyway. "Well, don't get too excited, you might pull something."

"It's just... stumbling onto a hunt? Here, of all places?"

"So?"

"So, are you sure this is about a hunt, not about something else?"

"What else would it be about?"

"You know, just forget it." Sam said with a sigh.

"You could believe what you want, Sam. But I let you drag my ass out here, the least we can do is check this out."

"Yeah. Fine."

"The girls dad works in town. He's professor at the school."

* * *

When they arrived at the college, they went to where they were told Angela's father's office was by another student and knocked on his door. A tall man with dark hair and glasses answered the door and looked at them curiously.

"Dr. Mason?"

"Yes?"

"I'm Sam. This is Dean and Harry. We were friends of Angela's. We wanted to offer our condolences." Sam told him softly. Harry and Dean smiled when they were introduced, getting a strained smile in return.

"Please, come in." Mason told them, stepping aside to let the three walk into the office, with its walls lined with books.

Dr Mason took out a scrapbook and started to show Sam photos of his daughter whilst Dean and Harry glanced around the room, occasionally looking at a book that caught their eye.

"She was beautiful." Sam said, turning the page to the scrapbook.

"Yes she was." Mason agreed sadly, looking at the photo in front of him.

"This is an unusual book." Dean piped up near a bookshelf. He held up a book with strange symbols and letters wrote on the front.

"It's ancient Greek. I teach a course." Mason told them, Dean looked at the book once more and then put it back where he found it.

"So, a car accident. That's horrible." Dean stated bluntly. Harry gaped at Dean in disbelief.

"Smooth." Harry muttered to Dean before smiling sympathetically at Mason.

"Angie was only a mile away from home when, uh..." Mason trailed off and glanced at the floor.

"That's gotta be hard – losing someone like that. Sometimes it's like they're still around. Almost like you can still sense their presence. You ever feel anything like that?"

"I do, as a matter of fact." Mason said. Dean nodded to Sam, who glared back.

"That's perfectly normal, Dr Mason. Especially with what you're going through." Sam told him sympathetically.

"You know, I still phone her. The phone was ringing before I remembered that, uh... Family is everything, you know? Angie was that most important thing in my life. And now I'm just lost without her." Mason started to cry, which made Harry stare at him horrified and take a step back.

"We're very sorry." Sam said, patting Mason on his back, glaring at Harry.

* * *

"I'm telling you, there's something going on here. We just haven't found it yet." Dean said once they were in their motel room.

"How come I never get a bed?"

"You don't sleep." Sam told him before turning back to Dean. "Dean, so far you've got a patch of dead grass and nothing."

"I could share with someone."

"Oh hell no. Sleep on the table. Or the floor. And something made that grave turn into unholy ground.

"I don't want to sleep on the ground."

"You can have my bed if you want. I'll sleep on the floor. There's no reason for it to be unholy ground. Angela Mason was a nice girl who died in a car crash. That's not exactly 'vengeful spirit' material. You heard her father."

"No, you can sleep in the bed."

"So generous of you." Dean muttered before turning his attention back to Sam. "Maybe Daddy doesn't know everything there is to know about his little angel, huh?"

"You know what? We never should have bothered that poor man. We shouldn't even be here anymore."

"So what, Sam? We just bail? Without even figuring out what's going on?"

"It's really quite simple." Harry said, and was pretty much ignored by both brothers as they continued their bickering.

"What is? And I think I know what's going on here. It's the only reason I went along with you this far."

"I know what's going on." Harry piped in again, once again being brushed aside.

"Sure you do. What are you talking about Sam?"

"I do."

"This is about Mom's grave."

Dean scoffed and Harry looked at Sam sharply. "That's got nothing to do with it."

"You wouldn't step within a hundred yards of it. Look... maybe you're imagining a hunt where there isn't one so you don't have to think about Mom. Or Dad. You wanna take another swing? Go ahead. It'll make you feel better."

"I don't need this crap."

"Dean's right."

"What?" Both brothers looked at Harry who was sitting on the table, watching them argue."

"I said, 'Dean's right' There is something weird going on."

"Oh of course you'd listen to him!"

"What?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry asked, tilting his head in confusion.

"Oh you know what I mean!"

"Right. I really don't."

"Oh forget this. Sammy, you're insane." Dean said, walking over to the door.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm gonna go get a drink. Alone." Dean told them, before leaving, slamming the door behind him.

"I'm confused."

"Think Dean has actually gone for a drink?" Harry asked after sitting in silence for over half an hour, with Sam who was flipping through the channels on the TV.

"Don't know. Why don't you go search for him?" Sam snapped, making Harry look up from where he was lying on Dean's bed.

"What's wrong with you?"

"You –" Sam was interrupted by a poof of smoke appearing in the room and Hank stepping out of it, glancing at Sam dismissively before turning to Harry.

"Is he alive then?" Hank asked with a bored tone.

"You could sound a bit more interested, and you know he is."

"Who?"

"Dean."

"Oh, him." Sam said, scowling at the cover on the bed.

"So why did you leave here in the first place?" Hank asked, curiously. Sam looked over at him from the TV, suddenly interested in the conversation.

"Yeah, why did you leave?"

"I needed a change of scenery."

"A change of scenery?"

"Yeah."

"So you went back to Britain?"

"Yeah."

"You went to Britain?" Sam asked, incredulously.

"Yeah. Like I said, change of scenery."

"Lovely. So the real reason?" Hank asked, scowling at Sam suspiciously.

"I didn't want to cramp on your style. I figured I'd give you a chance to hunt without me around." Harry told Sam awkwardly.

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"Really! Will you stop asking?"

"Fine. So what are you doing here?"

"We don't know." Sam told him grumpily, making Hank and Harry stare at him in shock.

"What he said." Harry said with a sigh.

"Did you want any of those books you borrowed?" Hank asked, getting Sam's attention from the TV once more.

"Books? What books?"

"Books to help my wonky magic."

"You do realise you're one of the first Reapers to have their magic still right?"

"That would be because you don't normally make wizards into reapers. Stop making me seem special."

"Fine." Hank said with a put upon sigh. "If you're not going to tell me the real reason you left, then I shall leave you be. Make sure you sort this case out. You know how I hate them."

"Sure thing."

"What?"

"Nothing."

"I'll be off. I gathered from our last meeting that Dean didn't like me. So see you later on, Harry." Hank told them before disappearing once more in a cloud of smoke.

"Show off."

* * *

Later, about an hour after Hank had left them, Harry and Sam were sitting watching the TV when Dean walked in through the door.

"Where the hell were you?"

"I was working my imaginary case."

"Yeah, and?"

"Well, you were right, I didn't find much. Except Angela's boyfriend died last night – slit his throat. But you know, that's normal. Let's see, what else? Oh, he was seeing Angela everywhere before he died. But you know, I'm sure that's just me transferring my own feelings."

"Okay, I get it. I'm sorry, maybe there _is_ something going on here."

"Maybe? Sam, I know how to do my job, despite what you might think."

"We should check out the guy's apartment."

"I just came from there. Found a pile of dead plants, just like the cemetery. Hell, dead goldfish too."

"So, unholy ground?"

"Maybe. But I'm still not getting that powerful, 'angry spirit' vibe from Angela. I have been reading this though." Dean told them, holding up a diary and grinning.

"You stole the girl's diary?"

"Yeah, Sam. And if anything, the girl's a little _too_ nice."

"So, what do you wanna do?"

"Keep digging. Talk to more of her friends."

"You get any names?"

"You kidding me?" He held up the diary before throwing it to Sam. "I have her bestest friend in the whole wide world and get off my bed." He added with a glare at Harry, who pouted but slinked off the bed all the same.

* * *

"I didn't realise the college employed grief counsellors." Neil, Angela's closest friend said when he had answered the door to them.

"Oh, yeah. You talk, we listen. Maybe throw a little therapeutic collage, whatever helps jump-start the healing." Dean said with his most charming smile that made Harry roll his eyes.

"Well, I think I'm okay. Thanks."

"Well, you heard what happened to Matt Harrison, right?" Sam asked him and Matt nodded his head and narrowed his eyes.

"Yeah I did."

"We just wanted to make sure _you_ were okay. Grief can make people do crazy things."

"Look, I'm sorry about what happened to him. I am. But if Matt killed himself, it wasn't 'cause of grief."

"No? Then what?"

"It was guilt. Angie's death was Matt's fault, and he knew it."

"How was Matt responsible?" Sam asked him and Matt sighed and then frowned as he answered him.

"She really loved that guy. But the night of the accident, she walked in on him with another girl. She was really torn up, that's why she crashed the car." He told them, getting shocked looks from the three of them, "Look, I've gotta get ready for work. So, thanks for the concern, but seriously, I'll be okay." He nodded to them and then went back inside.

Sam, Harry and Dean walked back to the street and to the car in silence before it was broken by Dean.

"Well, that vengeful spirit theory is starting to make a little more sense. I mean, hell hath no fury."

"So, if Angela got her revenge on Matt, you think it's over?"

"Well, there's one way to be sure."

"Yeah? What's that?"

"Burn the bones." Dean stated, ignoring the surprised snort that came from Harry.

"Burn the bones? Are you high? Angela died last week."

"So?

"So, there's not gonna _be_ bones. There's gonna be a ripe, rotting body in the coffin."

"Since when are you afraid to get dirty, huh?" Sam shook his head whilst Harry stared at Dean as though he was crazy.

"This is insane." Harry muttered to himself and got into the car behind Sam.

* * *

Harry watched as the two brothers finished digging up the grave, he sighed and tried to get their attention one last time, but was ignored once again and decided to give it up and leant against the tree.

"Ladies first."

"Hold that." Sam told Dean, handing the torch to Dean and then opening the coffin to find that it was empty.

"That's what I've been trying to tell you. There is no body." Harry told them, finally getting their attention.

"What? You knew, but didn't tell us?"

"I tried to tell you, several times in fact, but you both ignored me, so I gave up." Harry said with a shrug, proud that he had managed to hide his hurt with indifference.

"Oh great, so we dug up a grave for no reason."

"Maybe not." Sam told them, still standing in the grave.

"What's that?"

"I don't get it." Sam smoothed the ton lining of the casket and looked at some strange symbols engraved in the wood. "Look."

"What is that?" Dean asked, leaning forward to get a better look.

"I'm not sure."

"I've seen these kinds of symbols before." Dean said, looking at them closer. Harry looked at the symbols and rolled his eyes, wondering why they didn't ask him for advice more often.

* * *

Dean knocked on the door to Dr Mason's house and waited for the man to answer, Sam grabbed Dean's arm and tugged to get his attention.

"Dean, take it easy, okay?" Sam asked, only to get ignored by Dean, who knocked again. All three looked up when Dr Mason answered the door.

"You're Angie's friends, right?"

"Dr Mason—"

"We need to talk." Dean interrupted.

"Well, then, come in." Mason told them, moving out of the way to allow them to enter.

"Thanks." Sam told him as he entered, smiling lightly at the older man.

"You teach Ancient Greek? Tell me. What are these?" Dean asked once they were inside the house. He pulled out a piece of paper and showed Dr Mason the same symbols he had copied from the coffin.

"I don't understand. You said that this had something to do with Angie."

"It does. Pease, just humour me."

"They're part of an ancient Greek divination ritual."

"Used for necromancy, right?"

"That's right."

"See, before we came over here, we stopped by the library and did a little homework ourselves. Apparently, they use rituals like this when communicating with the dead. Even bringing corpses back to life – full-on zombie action."

"Yeah. I mean, according to the legends. Now, what's all this about?"

"I think you know." Dean said as he snatched the paper back from Mason.

"Dean." Sam said warningly.

"Look, I get it, okay? There are people who I would give anything to see again. But what gives you the right?"

"Dean!"

"What are you talking about?"

"What's dead should stay dead!"

"What?"

"Stop it!"

"What you brought back isn't even your daughter anymore. These things are vicious, they're violent, they're so nasty they rot the ground around them. I mean, come on, haven't you seen _Pet Cemetery_?"

"You're insane."

"Where is she?"

"Get out of my house." Mason told them, picking up the phone.

"I know you're hiding her somewhere. Where is she?"

"Dean, stop, that's enough. Dean look!" Sam finally yelled, pointing to the plants in the living room. "Beautiful, living plants." Sam turned to Dr Mason, "We're leaving."

"I'm calling the police."

"Sir, we're sorry. We won't bother you again."

"What the hell's the matter with you, Dean?" Sam asked once they had left the house and were walking back to the car.

"Back off."

"That man is innocent! He didn't deserve that!"

"Okay, so, she's not here. Maybe he's keeping her somewhere else."

"Stop it! That's enough, okay? Enough!"

"Sam, I know what I'm doing."

"No, you don't! At all." Dean laughed and Sam and Harry glanced at him strangely. "Dean, I don't scare easy, but man, you're scaring the crap outta me."

"You're being overdramatic Sam."

"He's really not."

"Shut up, Harry."

"You're lucky this turned out to be a real case, 'cause if it wasn't, you would've just found something else to kill." Sam said, interrupting the fight that was bound to happen between Harry and Dean.

"What?"

"You're on edge, you're erratic. Except for when you're hunting, 'cause then you're downright scary. You're tail-spinning, man. And you refuse to talk about it and you won't let me help you!"

"I can take care of myself, thanks."

"No, you can't! And you know what? You're the only one who thinks you should have to. You don't have to handle this on your own, Dean, no one can."

"Sam, if you bring up Dad's death one more time, I swear."

"Stop, please, Dean - it's killing you. Please we've already lost Dad. We've lost Mom. I've lost Jessica. And now I'm gonna lose you, too?"

Dean looked at Sam, pausing. "We better get out of here before the cops come." Dean told them, ignoring the frown from Sam. "I hear you, okay? Yeah, I'm being an ass, and I'm sorry. But right now we've got a friggin' zombie running around, and we need to figure out how to kill it." Sam scoffed and Harry rolled his eyes. "Right?"

"Our lives are weird man."

"You're telling me. Come on."

* * *

"We can't just waste her with a head shot?" Dean asked, once they were all in the relative safety of their motel room.

"Dude, you've been watching way too many Romero flicks."

"You're telling me there's no lore on how to smoke 'em?"

"Sam's right, there really isn't much you can do. There are hundreds of different methods for killing them, just as there are hundreds of different legends on the walking dead." Harry told them, whilst Sam looked through John's journal.

"Some say setting them of fire, one said... where is it? Right here, feeding their hearts to wild dogs. That's my personal favourite. Who knows what's real and what's myth?"

"Is there anything they all have in common?"

"No, but a few said silver might work."

"Silver's a start."

"Yeah. But now, how are we gonna find Angela?"

"We gotta figure out the person who brought her back."

"Any ideas? Harry, could Hank tell us?"

"Nope, he wouldn't know, he just knows that we have to sort it out. He doesn't like it when people cheat death."

"I think if it's not her dad, it might be that guy, Neil."

"Neil?"

"Yep."

"How'd you come up with that?"

"Well, you've got your journal, I've got mine." Dean held up Angela's journal and then opened it to a page. "'Neil's a real shoulder to cry on. He so understands what I'm going through with Matt.' And there's more in here where that came from. It's got unrequited Duckie love written all over it."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean he brought her back from the dead."

"Hm, did I mention that he's Professor Mason's T.A? Has access to all the same books."

* * *

Later that night, loaded down with guns and their trust lock picks, Dean, Harry and Sam entered Neil's house.

"Hello? Neil! It's you grief counsellors, we've come to hug!" They unsurprisingly, got no response and Dean took out his gun.

"Silver bullets?"

"Yeah, enough to make her rattle like a change purse." They looked around the house, noticing that all the plants in the house were dead. Eventually they came across the door to the basement. "This is where he keeps his porn." Dean said with a chuckle, getting a laugh from Harry and a scowl from Sam, who unlocked the door and held it open for Harry and Dean to go down. The room was completely empty bar a bed in the middle of the room. "Sure looks like a zombie pen to me."

"Yeah, an empty one. You think Angela's going after somebody?" Dean shrugged and walked over to one of the windows, finding that it was open.

"No, I think she went out to rent _Beaches_."

"Look, smartass, she might kill someone. We've gotta find her and send her back where she belongs." Harry said, nibbling on his lower lip.

"Yeah. All right, she clipped Matt because he was cheating, right?" Dean said, looking at Harry and Sam, who both nodded.

"Yeah."

"Well, it takes two to, you know... have hardcore sex." Sam looked at him confusion whilst Harry nodded in agreement, "I don't know, it just seemed that Angela's roommate was... broken up over Matt's death. I mean, like _really_ broken up."

They arrived at Angela's house that she shared with Lindsey just in time to find Lindsey stab Angela in the chest with a pair of scissors. Dean and Sam both shot at Angela as she pulled the scissor from her chest. She ran out of the window and Dean followed closely behind her. Sam and Harry ran over to Lindsey.

"I've got you. I've got you." Sam whispered, helping the girl up as Harry hovered around them and Dean walked back into the room.

"Damn, that dead chick can run."

"What now?"

"I say we go have a little chat with Neil. Stupid dead girl raising freak." Harry muttered, slamming his fist into the palm of his hand.

"So says the dead guy."

"_Legitimate _dead guy. Thank you very much."

* * *

"So the silver bullets – this did something, right?" Sam asked once they were driving back to Neil's office.

"Yeah, something, but not enough. What else you got?"

"Um... okay, besides silver, we have nailing the undead back into her grave beds. It's mentioned a few times. It's probably where the whole vampire-staking lore came from." Sam said, looking through his father's journal.

"Their grave beds? You serious?"

"Yeah."

"Well, how the hell are we gonna get Angela back to the cemetery?" Dean asked, making Sam's shoulders slump as he realised what it involved.

* * *

Back at the college, they made their way to Neil's office and let themselves in, managing to look quite threatening, if you asked Harry.

"What are you guys doing here?"

"You know, I've heard of some people doing some pretty desperate things to get laid, but you? You take the cake." Dean told him, shaking his head.

"Okay, who are you guys?"

"You might wanna ask Angela that question."

"What?"

"We know what you did. The ritual, everything."

Neil scoffed and shook his head. "You're crazy."

"You girlfriend's past her expiration date and we're crazy? When someone's gone, they should stay gone. You don't mess with that kind of stuff." Dean said, looking at Neil in disgust.

"Angela killed Matt. She tried to kill Lindsey." Sam told him a little more gently than Dean.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Neil told them, refusing to admit to the truth. Dean walked behind the desk and grabbed Neil by the collar. "Hey!"

"No more crap, Neil! This blood is on your hands. Now, we can make this right, but you've gotta tell us where she is. Tell us!"

"My house. She's at my house." Dean let him go and then noticed the dead plants all around the office.

"You sure about that?" Neil nodded. Dean glanced over to the closed closet door. "Listen, it doesn't really matter where she is. There's only one way to stop here, and we've gotta perform another ritual over her grave to reverse the one that you did." Dean then turned to Sam and Harry. "We're gonna need some black roots, some scarweed, some candles." Then he turned back to Neil. "It's very complicated, but it'll get the job done. She'll be dead again in a couple hours. I think you should come with us. I'm serious. Leave with us right now."

"No. No."

Dean leant over the desk and spoke to him in a very low voice, "Listen to me. Get out of here as soon as you can. But most of all, be cool. No sudden movements. Don't make her mad." He smiles slightly at Neil before he left with Sam and Harry.

* * *

In the cemetery Sam and Harry were lighting candles and placing them around Angela's grave whilst Dean looked through the journal.

"You really think this is gonna work?"

"No, not really. But it was the only thing I could come up with." They heard a rustle come from the trees. Sam picked up his gun and started to look around. After a couple of minutes of searching he turned and saw Angela.

"Wait! It's not what you think. I didn't ask to be brought back. But it's still me. I'm still a person... please."

Sam hesitated but then still shot her in the head. She began to chase after him. She caught up with him when Sam fell to ground, reaching to his neck, but before she could snap his neck Dean shot at her. He kept shooting at her until she fell backwards in the grave. Harry slid into the grave with her and began to stab her.

"Wait, don't!" Ignoring her, Harry drove the knife into her chest. Angela's eyes closed suddenly and Harry gave a sigh of relief and climbed back out of the grave.

"What's dead should stay dead."

"Hey. I resent that." Harry exclaimed with a pout, getting a somewhat sheepish grin from Dean in return.

* * *

The next morning, Dean, Sam and Harry finished covering the grave in soil, having spent most of the night doing it.

"Rest in peace."

"Yeah, for good this time, okay?" Dean said to the grave.

"You know, the whole fake ritual thing? Luring Angela into the cemetery? Pretty sharp."

"Thanks."

"But did we have to use me as bait?"

"I second that."

"I figured you were more her type. She had pretty crappy taste in men, and Harry refused."

"Hey!"

"I think she broke my hand."

"You're just too fragile. We'll get it looked at later." Dean told him as they reached the car. Dean turned back and looked at his mother's grave.

"You wanna stay fro a while?" Sam asked, Dean looked at the grave sadly.

"No." He said after a long pause. They put their things into the trunk and then got into the car.

* * *

Driving down the highway, Dean suddenly stopped the car and then got out and sat on the bonnet of the Impala. Harry and Sam glanced at one another and then got out of the car.

"Dean, what is it?" Sam asked, looking at Dean.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"The way I've been acting." Sam sat down on the hood and there is a long silence, in which Harry glanced at the two brothers and walked over to stand by Sam's side. Dean finally speaks again after the silence. "And for Dad. I mean he was your dad too. It's my fault he's gone."

"What are you talking about?"

"I know you've been thinking it, so have I. Doesn't take a genius to figure it out. Back at the hospital, I had a full recovery. And it was a miracle. Then, five minutes later, Dad's dead and the colt's gone."

"Dean—"

"You can't tell me there's not a connection there. I don't know how the demon was involved. I don't know how the whole thing went down exactly. But dad's dead because of me. And that much I do know."

"We don't know that. Not for sure."

"Sam... You and Dad – you're the most important people in my life. And now... I never should have come back, Sam. It wasn't natural. And now, look what's come of it. I was dead. And I should have stayed dead." Dean's voice broke and his bottom lip quivered. "You wanted to know how I was feeling. Well, that's it." Sam had tears in his eyes and nodded in understanding. Harry watched the two brothers bond and shuffled uncomfortably where he was standing. "So tell me... what could you possible say to make that all right?" He looked at Sam as tears streamed down his face. The two sat in silence.

Harry sighed and walked back to the car, letting the brothers have their moment alone, without him. Especially as he _knew _how Dean came back, and he was certain that one of the two brothers was going to ask him soon enough.

**A/N – Well here's another chapter and this one has Hank in it! Yay! Actually, I did have a review that asked for it to be Harry/Hank instead of Sam/Harry. Sorry, but I don't have any plans. Funnily enough, I was originally going to make it so that only Dean could see Harry. I scrapped that idea though. **

**Hopefully this chapter was enjoyable! The next chapter should be here again, in a weeks time! Please tell me what you think so far! Thank you! **


	6. Simon Said

Chapter Five – Simon Said

Harry ran into the bathroom when he heard a pained gasp coming from Sam and watched him splash water in his face. Harry opened his mouth to ask if he was alright, when Dean entered.

"Sam, come on, sip it up. Let's hit the... road." Dean stumbled over his words as he noticed the upset look on Sam's face. "What?"

* * *

"I don't know man. Why don't we just chill out and think about this?" Dean asked once they were driving in the Impala.

"What's there to think about?" Sam asked, turning the radio off.

"I just don't know if going to the Roadhouse is the smartest idea."

"I agree."

"Quiet, Harry. Dean, it's another premonition. I know it. This is gonna happen, and Ash can tell us where."

"Yeah, man, but—"

"Plus, it could have some connection with the demon. My visions always do."

"That's my point. There's gonna be hunters there. I don't know if going in and announcing that you're some supernatural freak with a demonic connection is the best thing, okay?"

"So, I'm a freak now?" Sam asked, making Harry sit up straight and pay more attention to the conversation happening in front of him.

"You've always been a freak." Dean said with a smirk, patting Sam's knee, Harry gaped at Dean for a few seconds before bursting into giggles that made Sam turn around and turn his glare onto Harry.

* * *

When they arrived at the Roadhouse, Dean made a beeline to where Jo was standing, Sam and Harry following closely behind.

"Just can't stay away, huh?" Jo asked, grinning at the three of them.

"Yeah, looks like it. How you doin', Jo?"

"Where's Ash?" Sam asked, interrupting the bonding Dean and Jo had going on.

"In his back room."

"Great." Sam said, walking away with Harry following closely behind.

"And I'm fine!" Jo called after their back.

"I don't like it here." Harry muttered, clinging closely to Sam.

"How come?"

"Stuck in a building full of Hunters, most of which would love to say they had gotten rid of a Reaper. Never happened yet and I hope it doesn't happen very soon either."

"Chill Harry, you're safe with me and Dean."

"Yeah, it's the other Hunters that worry me." Harry muttered, glancing behind him at the random hunters dotting the place.

"You'll be fine. Plus, they don't know what you are."

"You sure?"

"Sure I'm sure. Ash!" Sam said, suddenly knocking on a door with a sign saying 'Dr Badass is in' but getting no answer. "Hey Ash!"

Dean approached them and looked at a nervously twitching Harry before sighing and banging on the door. "Hey, Dr Badass!"

After a moment, Ash opens the door, shirtless and presumably naked from the waist down. "Sam? Dean? Harry? Sam and Dean." Dean looked at him in disgust.

"Hey Ash, um, we need your help."

"Hell, then... I guess I need my pants." Ash told them and then closed the door.

"What's up with you?" Dean asked Harry, leaning on the wall next to Ash's door.

"Hunters."

"Ah, you do know there is no way recorded of killing off a reaper. You have Death on your side. Literally!" Dean told him, smiling widely and looking at the other Hunter's in the bar.

"Cheers. Still not comforting me." Harry muttered, practically glued to Sam's said, who sighed and placed an arm over his shoulders, pulling him in to his side.

"You'll be fine, you have given these people no reason to suspect you, well, besides the nervous energy you're practically vibrating with." Sam said with a chuckle.

"He's right you know."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Harry muttered, just as Ash came out of the room with his laptop in hand and lead the three of them to an empty table and sat down, opening his laptop.

"What can I do for you?"

"I was wondering if you could find where this logo comes from." Sam said, quickly drawing the Blue Ridge bus logo down on a napkin for Ash and sliding it over.

"So I got a match. Let's see... it's the logo for the Blue Ridge bus lines – Guthrie, Oklahoma."

"Okay, do me a favour. Check Guthrie for any demonic signs or omens or anything like that."

"You think the demon's there?" Ash asked him with a confused frown.

"Yeah, maybe."

"Why would you think that?"

"Just check it, all right?" Dean told him, glancing at Sam.

"No, sir. Nothin, no demon."

"All right, try something else for me. Search Guthrie for a house fire. It would be 1983, the fire's origin would be a baby's nursery, the night of the kid's six-month birthday." Ash looked at Sam as if he was crazy.

"Okay, now that is just weird, man. Why the hell would I be lookin' for that?" Sam placed a bottle of beer in front of him.

"'Cause there's a PBR in it for ya."

"Give me fifteen minutes."

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, and Dean had wandered off to speak with Jo, leaving Harry and Sam at the table with Ash, who was still searching on the computer.

"Harry, stop nibbling on your lip, it makes you look guilty." Sam hissed, ignoring the chuckle that came from Ash.

"Okay, I've got it."

"Truly?"

"Yep."

"I'll go get Dean." Harry told them and walked off, over to where Dean was sitting talking to Jo.

"Hey, hey, Reaper-man!" Jo called, seeing Harry walk towards them.

"Shh!" Harry hissed, walking over to them.

"Yeah, he doesn't want anyone to try and off him."

"He's a reaper."

"Doesn't stop him from being paranoid. Did Ash find something?" Dean asked Harry, looking amused whilst Harry scowled at them both.

"Yep. We're leaving this place. Thank god."

"Hey, it's not that bad here."

"Oh, no. It's nice here, really. It just makes me nervous." Harry told her, still glancing around him.

"All right then. Jo, I'll see you later." Dean told her and walked over to Sam with Harry, he nodded to her and they left, leaving Jo disappointed.

* * *

"Even as I wander, I'm keeping you in sight. You're a candle in the window on a cold, dark winter's night. And I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might—" Dean sang, whilst Sam and Harry looked at him strangely.

"You're kidding right?"

Dean blushed and looked at Sam sheepishly. "I heard the song somewhere, I can't get it out of my head. I don't know man. What do you got?" Both brothers ignored the snickering coming from Harry.

"Andrea Gallagher – born in '83, like me. Lost his mother in a nursery fire exactly six months later, also like me." Sam told them, looking at the paperwork Ash had given him.

"You think the demon killed his mom?"

"Sure looks like it."

"How'd you even know to look for this guy?"

"Every premonition I've had - if they're not about the demon, they're about the other kids the demon visited. Like Max Miller, remember him?"

"Yeah, but Max Miller was a pasty little psycho."

"He wasn't that bad." Harry piped up from the back of the car.

"He tried to kill me!"

"Exactly." Harry agreed, grinning widely when Dean glared at him through the rear-view mirror.

"The point is, he was killing people, and I was having the same type of visions about him." Sam interrupted before Dean could reply. "Now it could be happening all over again with this Gallagher guy."

"How do we find him?"

"I don't know. No current address, no current employment. He still owes money on all his bills – phone, credit, utilities."

"Collection agency flags?"

"Not in the system."

"They just let him take a walk?"

"Seems like it. There's a work address from the last W-2 about a year ago. Let's start there." Sam said, as he looked through what little information he could find on Andrew Gallagher.

* * *

"You won't get anything out of Andy, guys. I'm sorry, but they never do." A waitress in the diner told them when they asked about Andy.

"They?" Dean asked, whilst Harry sighed and leant against Sam slightly, making Sam look at him questioningly.

"You're debt collectors, right? Once in a while, they come by. I don't know what Andy says to them, but they never come back."

"Actually, we're lawyers, representing his great-aunt Lita. She passed, God rest her soul, but left Andy a sizeable estate."

"Yeah. So, are you a friend of his?" Sam asked, looking hopeful.

"I used to be, yeah. I don't see much of Andy anymore." The waitress told them, a waiter walked past them and then stopped and joined them at the table.

"Andy? Andy kicks ass, man!"

"Is that right?" Dean asked, amused.

"Yeah! Andy can get you into anything, man. He even got me backstage at Aerosmith once. It was beautiful, bro."

"Uh-huh. How about bussing a table or two, Webber?" Tracy asked, looking over at the excitable man.

"Yeah, you bet boss." Webber said, before leaving them alone.

"Look, if you wanna find him, try Orchard Street. Just look for a van with a barbarian queen painted on the side."

"A Barbarian queen?"

"She's riding a polar bear. It's kind of hard to miss."

* * *

"I'm sorry, I'm starting to like this dude. That van is _sweet_." Dean told them when they sat in the car across the street from Andy's van. Dean looked at Sam and sighed. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Sam, you look like you're sucking on a lemon. What's going on?"

"This is Andrew Gallagher – he's the second guy like this we've found, Dean. The demon came to them when they were kids, now they're killing people."

"We don't know what Andrew Gallagher is, okay? Could be innocent."

"My visions haven't been wrong yet."

"In my experience, visions can be tricky things. They can be wrong sometimes, Sam." Harry pointed out quietly from the back.

"Harry's right, what's your point, Sam?"

"My point is I'm one of them."

"No you're not." Both Harry and Dean said at the same time.

"The demon said he had plans for me and the children like me."

"Yeah?" Dean asked, looking over at Andy's van.

"Yeah, maybe this is his plan, maybe we're all a bunch of psychic freaks! Maybe we're all supposed to be—"

"What, killers?"

"Yeah."

"So the demon wants you out there, killing with your minds, is that it? Oh give me a break. You're not a murderer, Sam! You don't have it in your bones."

"As much as it pains me to say it, Dean's right. You're not a killer. Trust me, I know what a killer looks like."

"Last I checked I kill all kinds of things." Sam muttered sullenly.

"Well, those things were askin' for it. There's a difference." Dean told Sam before turning away from him, looking worried. Not long after, Andy exited an apartment building, dressed in pyjamas and a dressing gown.

"Got him." Sam muttered watching Andy begin to walk down the street and then looked back up at the apartment. An attractive blonde was waving at him from the window. Andy waved back and Sam and Dean exchanged a look whilst Harry sat stunned that Andy slept with that woman,

"No way." Harry muttered to himself, shaking his head.

Andy carried on walking and then stopped a man in the street. He stood talking to the man for a minute before the man handed over his coffee and walked away. Andy carried on walking and then met another man and shook his hand.

"That's him. The older guy, that's him. That's the shooter."

"Well, you keep on him, I'll stick with Andy. Go." Sam and Harry both got out of the car and followed the second man across the street.

As they were walking down the street, the man's phone rang and Sam nudged Harry, who looked at him questioningly.

"What?"

"This happened in my vision."

"So he's about to go shoot a load of people?" Harry asked, watching as the man answered his phone.

"Seems like it. We have to stop him" Sam told Harry before he quickly ran across the street, Harry following quickly behind him. Harry then watched as Sam pulled the alarm in the shop and then left.

"What was that- oh." Harry said as they watched the man stop at the doors to the shop, then shake his head and walk off. Harry shook his head and then took a double take as he saw Andy drive past in the Impala. "Did you just-"

"See Andy in the impala? Yeah." Sam said, sounding just as stunned as Harry.

"Ring Dean." Harry hissed, prodding Sam. Sam nodded and took out his phone, turning his back to the previous man, and thus missing as his own phone rang and he answered.

"I can't believe Dean." Harry muttered, shaking his head. "I should't have left him alone."

"He's a grown man, I'm sure he can last without you." Sam muttered, glaring at nothing.

"Obviously."

"Dean! Andy's got the Impala." Sam almost yelled down the phone. Harry looked up and listened into the call, only just making out the tinny voice of Dean.

"I know! He just sort of asked me for it, and then I let him take it."

"You _what_?" Sam exclaimed, whilst Harry frowned and nibbled on his lips.

"He full on Obi-Wan'd me! It's mind control, man!" Dean's voice yelled, making Sam look confused while Harry burst into laughter. "Is Harry laughing at me? Make him stop!"

Sam sighed and turned around, watching as the man suddenly walked into the road and got hit by a Blue Ridge bus. Sam and Harry watched in horror, completely shocked at what happened.

"Well I didn't expect that." Harry muttered and Sam made a small, distressed noise beside him.

* * *

Later, Dean, Harry and Sam watched from the corner of the street as the paramedics put the mans body into a body bag and loaded it into the ambulance.

"I kept him out of the gun store. I thought he was okay. I thought he was past it, at least... I should have stayed with him."

"How were you to know?" Harry asked, still staring as the ambulance drove away. Suddenly Dean ran ahead of them, making Sam and Harry glance at each other and then follow behind him, smiling when they saw Dean hugging the Impala.

"Thank God. I'm sorry, baby. I'll never leave you again." Dean then turned to Sam and Harry. "At least he left the keys in it."

"Yeah. Real Samaritan this guy."

"Well, it looks like he can't work his mojo just by twitchin' his nose. He's gotta use verbal commands."

"The doctor had just gotten off his cell phone when he stepped in front of that bus. Andy must have called him or something."

"I don't know, maybe." Dean said, sounding a little reluctant, which made Sam look at him incredulously.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I just don't know if he's out guy, Sam."

"I agree with Dean, Sam." Harry said quietly, then stepped back a step when Sam shot him a venomous glare.

"Oh you would! And you, Dean, you had O.J. convicted before he got out of his white Bronco, and you have doubts about _this_?"

"He just doesn't seem like the stone-cold killer type, that's all. And O.J was guilty!"

"Either way, how are we gonna track this guy down?"

"Not a problem." Dean told them after a slight pause.

* * *

On another street corner, they found Andy's van, Harry rolling his eyes as Dean looked it over.

"Not exactly an inconspicuous ride. Let's have a look." Dean took a tool out of his pocket and opened the door. Inside the van was completely decked out, complete with a disco ball, blankets and posters. "Oh come on. This is... this is magnificent, that's what this is. Not exactly a serial killer's lair, though. There's no little clown painting on the walls or scissors stuck into photos of the victim. I like the tiger." Dean added, pointing to a poster on the wall.

Sam picked up some books that were scattered in the van, "Hegel? Kant? Wittgenstein? That's some pretty heavy reading, Dean."

"Yeah, and uh... Moby Dick's bong." Dean said with a grin, picking up a large bong. Harry snickered and took one of the books that Sam looked at.

* * *

Back at the Impala, the brothers and Harry discussed what was happening, whilst having something to eat.

"Ugh." Dean threw the wrapper from his burger onto the backseat, only just missing Harry.

"Oi."

"Sorry. You know, one day, I'd love to just sit down and eat something that I didn't have to microwave in a mini-mart."

"What I don't get is the motive. I mean, the doctor was squeaky clean. Why would Andy waste him?"

"If it _is_ Andy."

"Dude, enough."

"What?"

"The doctor was mind-controlled in front of a bus. Andy just happened to have the power of mind control. You do the math."

"Maybe he has a twin." Harry piped up from the back, getting a glare from both brothers.

"I just don't think the guy's got it in him, that's all."

"Well, how the hell would you know? I mean, why are you bending over backwards, defending him?"

"'Cause you're not right about this."

"About Andy?" Sam asked, just as Andy arrived at the car.

"Creepy." Harry muttered as Andy smiled at everyone in the car.

"Hey! You think I haven't seen you two? Why are you following me?"

"Well, we're lawyers. See, a relative of yours has passed away—"

"Tell the truth!"

"That's what I'm—"

"We hunt demons." Dean interrupted, making Sam and Andy look at him in shock, whilst Harry rolled his eyes.

"Mind of steel that one."

"What?" Andy asked, looking at Dean.

"Dean?"

"Demons, spirits – things your worst nightmare wouldn't even touch. Sam here, he's my brother, and Harry –

"Dean, shut up!" Sam and Harry yelled.

"I'm trying to." Dean told them before turning back to Andy. "Sam's psychic. Kind of like you. Well, not really like you, but see, he thinks you're a murderer, and he's afraid that he gonna become one himself, 'cause you're all part of something that's terrible, and I hope to hell that he's wrong, but I'm starting to get a little scared that he might be right."

"Okay, you know what? Just leave me alone."

"Okay." Dean agreed. Andy walked away and Dean put his head in his hands, ashamed. Sam got out of the car and followed Andy whilst Harry stayed behind in the car with Dean, awkwardly patting him on the back.

"What are you doing? Look I said leave me alone!" Andy yelled when he noticed Sam following behind him. Sam shook his head and Andy sighed. "Get out of here! Just start driving and never stop!"

"Doesn't seem to work on me, Andy."

"What?"

"You can make people do things, can't you? You can tell them what to think."

"That's crazy." Andy said, laughing, slightly hysterical.

"It all started about a year ago, didn't it? After you turned twenty-two? Little stuff at first, then you got better at controlling it."

"How did you know all this?"

"'Cause the same thing happened to me, Andy. My mom died in a fire too. I have abilities, too. You see, we're connected, you and me."

"You know what, just get out of here, all right?"

"Why'd you tell the doctor to walk in front of a bus?"

"What?" Andy asked, stunned. Sam suddenly winced and shook his head as more images began to flash in his head. He caught a glimpse of a woman at a petrol station.

"Why did you kill him." Sam asked through gritted teeth, trying to ignore it.

"I didn't!"

Sam's vision took over his thoughts then, making Sam fall down to his knees, clutching at his head. Dean and Harry noticed from the car and quickly got out, running to Sam and a scared Andy.

"I didn't do anything to him! He just collapsed!" Andy exclaimed, looking at Dean and Harry in fear.

"Chill, he's just having a vision, he'll be right as rain in no time." Harry told Andy, before bending down and rubbing Sam's back.

"He's right you know. You didn't do anything wrong." Dean said, watching as Harry comforted Sam.

Suddenly Sam looked up and stood, sending a small smile to Harry, who smiled back widely.

"What is it?" Dean asked, looking at Sam.

"A woman... A woman burning alive."

"What else did you get?"

"A gas station – a woman's gonna kill herself."

"What does he mean, "going to"? What is he—"

"Shut up." Dean snapped at him, before turning back to look at Sam questioningly.

"She gets triggered by a call on her cell."

"When?"

"I don't know. But as long as we keep out eyes on this son of a bitch, he can't hurt her."

"I didn't hurt anybody!"

"Yeah, not yet." They watched as a fire truck drove by. "Go." Sam told Dean, Andy moved forward but Sam stopped him. "No, not you. You're staying here with me."

* * *

Harry sighed and glared at Andy, enjoying the flinch that it brought and then sighed again. He sat up straight when Sam's phone rang. Harry moved closer to Sam so that he could hear the call.

"Hey?"

"Hey, it's me. She's dead. Burned up, just like you said."

"When?"

"Minutes before I got here. I mean, the smell hasn't even cleared. What's up with your visions, man? This wasn't even a head start."

"I don't know, all right? I can't control 'em. I don't know what the hell is going on."

"Listen, you were with Andy when this whole thing went down, so it can't be him. It's gotta be somebody else doing this."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"What else is new? I'll dig around here, see what else I can find." Dean hung up and Sam turned to face Harry and Andy.

"Look's like it wasn't you."

"That's what I tried to tell you!"

"Sorry, but you've got to admit it was suspicious."

"He has a point." Harry pointed out, getting a glare form both men.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Harry, don't bother with the mind mojo, it won't work."

"So, you get these premonitions about people about to die?" Andy asked Sam after a moment of silence. "That's impossible."

"A lot of people would say the same thing about what you do."

"Death visions?"

"Yeah."

"Dude, that sucks. When I got my mind thing, it was like a gift, you know? It was like I won the lotto."

"But you live in a van. I don't get it. I mean, you could have anything you ever wanted."

"I've got everything I need."

"So, you're not a killer, huh?" Andy laughed, making Harry scoff and roll his eyes, before dodging a swat to the back of his head by Sam.

"That's what I've been trying to tell you."

"That's good. It means there's hope for both of us." Sam muttered just as Dean pulled up and got out of the car, walking over to them.

"Victim's name was Holly Becket – forty-one, single."

"Who is she?" Sam asked Andy.

"Never heard of her."

"I called Ash on the way over here, he came up with a little somethin'. Apparently Holly Beckett gave birth when she was eighteen years old, back in 1983. Same day you were born Andy."

"Andy, were you adopted?"

"Well, yeah."

"You were? And you neglected to mention that?"

"How was he supposed to know what you wanted to hear?" Harry muttered, kicking at a stone and only just missing hitting the Impala, which got him a glacial look from Dean.

"It never really came up. I mean, I never knew my birth parents. And like you said, my adopted mom died when I was a baby. Do you think this Holly woman could actually be—"

"I don't know. I tried to get a copy of the birth records, but they're hard copy only. Sealed in the county office."

"Well screw that." Andy exclaimed, before standing up and leading them away.

* * *

At the county office, Dean and Sam were looking over paperwork whilst Andy was talking to the officer and Harry was wandering around the office, picking up random objects.

"I probably shouldn't have let you kids in here." The officer said nervously.

"No, it'll be fine, all right? Just go get a cup of coffee, all right? These aren't the droids you're looking for." The officer nodded and then left the room.

"Awesome." Dean said with a big grin. Harry rolled his eyes and picked up a crystal paper weight.

"Got it." Sam told them.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Andy, it's true. Holly Beckett was your birth mother."

"Does anyone have a Vicodin?" Andy asked, stunned.

"Dr Jennings was her doctor too. I mean, he oversaw the adoption. You have a solid connection to both of them."

"Yeah, but I didn't kill 'em."

"We believe you."

"Yeah."

"But, uh... who did?" Dean asked, looking at Sam.

"I think I've got a pretty good guess. Holly Beckett gave birth to twins." Sam told them. Harry looked up in shock and then glanced at Andy.

"Twins have always creeped me out."

* * *

Later, the four of them were still in the office, looking through the paperwork about the adoption. Harry was still playing with the paperweight and generally ignoring Andy.

"I have... an evil twin." Andy stated in shock. Dean and Harry looked up and both started snickering, before they noticed the other laughing and stopped, which made Sam smirk.

"Holly put you and your brother up for adoption. You went to the Gallagher family, obviously. And your brother went to the Weems family from upstate."

"Andy, how you doing? Still with us?"

"Um... what was my brother's name?"

"Here, um, Ansem Weems." Andy shook his head, showing them that he didn't know who that is. "He's got a local address."

"Wait, he lives here?"

"Let's get a look at him. There's a picture coming over from the DMV right now." Dean took the paperwork from the fax machine and looked at it, shocked. "I hate to kick you while you're freaked." He handed to paper to Andy. "Take a look at that." Andy took the paper and looked at the photo stunned.

* * *

"All right Andy. Tell us everything you know about this guy."

"Webber shows up one day... eight months ago, acting like he's my best friend in the world. Kind of weird, like trying too hard, you know?" Andy told them, not noticing Sam cringe in pain.

"He must have known you guys were twins. Why did he change his name? Why not just tell you the truth."

"No clue." Andy said, Harry looked up when Sam groaned.

"Sam?" Harry asked, moving forward in his seat and getting the attention of the other two.

Dean looked over at Sam, who was clutching his head and moaning in pain, whilst Harry and Andy sat in the back of the Impala, feeling helpless as the watched Sam cringe in pain.

"Rub his back."

"I'm driving!"

"Fine, shift over Andy."

"There really isn't enough room in this car for this."

"I'm tiny, now move." Harry demanded. Andy sighed and moved back as Harry moved over him to sit behind Sam, and then he leant over and rubbed Sam's back, whilst Dean pulled the car over and climbed out of the car to run over to Sam's side of the car, and opening the door.

"Sam? Sam! Hey!"

* * *

When they pulled up on another section of road, near to where Sam saw the vision happen Sam and Dean quickly got out of the car and gathered things from the back of the trunk of the Impala. Harry watched Sam closely, noticing that he moved stiffly as Dean handed him several guns to hold.

"Dean, you should stay back."

"No argument here. I've had my head screwed with enough for one day."

"I'm coming with you."

"Andy –"

"Look, if it's Tracy out there... then I'm coming."

* * *

Sam ran over to the car where Ansem and Tracy were sitting. Ansem was saying something to Tracy, who was nodding and crying at the same time.

Sam smashed the window, and held a gun, pointed at Ansem and Tracy. "Get out of the car! Now!"

"You really don't wanna do this." Ansem told him, Sam, unaffected, punched Ansem in the face. Meanwhile, Andy opened Tracy's door.

"Tracy!"

"Andy!"

"Come here! Come here!"

"I couldn't control myself!" Tracy told Andy after hugging him.

Sam got Ansem out of the car and pinned him to the ground. "Hey, don't move. Don't move!" Andy came over to them and placed masking tape over Ansem's mouth and began kicking him. "No! No! I will handle it!"

"I will kill you!"

"Let me handle this, all right? Listen to me!" Whilst Sam was holding Andy back, Ansem focused on Tracy. Without speaking, Tracy grabbed a tree branch and hit Sam with it. He fell to the ground.

"Tracy, stop! I said stop it!" Tracy dropped the branch and Andy looked at Ansem, who stoop up and removed the tape on his mouth. "How did you do that?"

"Practise, bro. If you'd just practise, you would know. Sometimes, you don't need to use your words. If you have to, all you need is this." Ansem pointed to his head. "Sometimes, the headache's worth it."

"You're a twisted son of a bitch!" Andy growled and then grabbed Ansem by his jacket.

"Back off, Andy. Tracy's gonna do a little flying." Andy looked up and saw Tracy was standing on the edge of the dam. "Aren't you Tracy? I'm stronger than you. I can do it."

"Okay, okay. All right, just... please don't hurt her."

"Don't be mad at me, okay? I know it's all wrong. I didn't mean for this to happen. It's just Tracy—she's trying to come between us."

"You're insane."

"She's garbage, man! They all are! We can push them, we can make them do whatever we want!"

"Are you really this stupid? You learn you've got a twin, you call him up, you go out for a drink. You don't start killing people!"

"I've wanted to tell you for so long, bro. But her didn't let me. He said I had to wait until the time—"

"Who?"

"The man with the yellow eyes." Sam woke up and listened to them.

"What are you talking about?"

"He came to me in my dream. He said I was special. He told me he's got big plans for me. Wait till you see what's in store, Andy, for both of us. See, he's the one who told me I got a brother. A twin."

* * *

While Andy and Ansem were talking, Harry and Dean were hiding in a bush, some distance away and Dean aimed a sniper rifle at Ansem.

"Why are we here and not over there with Sam?"

"He told us to stay out of the way."

"But he can't control me. Why couldn't I go with him."

"Right now, I'm asking the same thing."

* * *

"Why did you kill our mother? And why Dr. Jennings?"

"Because they split us up! They ruined out lives, Andy! We could've been together this whole time, instead of alone. I couldn't let 'em do that, I couldn't let 'em get away with that. No." He paused and looked around, noticing Dean and Harry behind the trees. "I see you." Dean and Harry looked at him and Ansem grinned. "Bye, bye."

Dean then moved the gun and pointed it at Harry, who looked shocked and reached forward the push the gun out of his face. Before Dean can pull the trigger, another gun shot sounded and Ansem stumbled forward, having been shot in the back by Andy.

* * *

"He shot himself. And you all saw it happen." Andy told the police officer later on the next morning.

"Yeah. We did."

"Look at him. He's getting better at it." Sam said, watching Andy as he walked away from the officers. He saw Tracy sitting in an ambulance and smiled at her. She looked away. He then walked over to Sam, Harry and Dean.

"She won't even look at me."

"Yeah, she's pretty shaken up."

"No, it's—this is different. I never used my mind thing on her before... before last night. She's scared of me now."

"Andy, I hate to do this, but... we have to get out of here." He handed Andy a piece of paper. "Here, I wrote down my cell. You don't have to be alone in this, all right? If anything comes up, you call me up." They then began to walk away.

"What am I supposed to do now?"

"You be good Andy. And we'll be back." They walked back to the Impala.

"Looks like I was right."

"About what?" Dean asked, getting the attention of Harry as well.

"Andy. He's a killer after all."

"No, he's a hero. He saved his girlfriends life, he saved _my _life." Harry said, nibbling on his lip.

"Bottom line, last night, he wasted somebody."

"Yeah, but he's not a foaming-at-the-mouth psycho. He was pushed into that." Dean told him.

"Webber was pushed, too, in his own way. Max Miller was pushed. Hell _I _was pushed by Jessica's death."

"What's your point, Sam?"

"Right circumstances, everyone's capable of murder. Everyone. Maybe that's what the demon's doing – pushing us, finding ways to break us."

"Sam, we don't know what the demon wants, okay? Quit worrying about it."

"You know, I heard you before, Dean. When Andy made you tell the truth. You're just as scared of this as I am."

"That was mind control! It's like being Roofie'd, man, that doesn't count."

"What?"

"No, I'm calling a do-over."

"What are you, seven?"

"Doesn't matter. We've just gotta keep doing what we're doing, find that evil son of a bitch, and kill it." Dean said, just as his phone rang

"Yeah. I guess."

"Hello? Ellen? What's going on? Yeah, we'll be right there."

"What did Ellen want?"

"I don't know, she wanted to see us."

"Let's go then." Harry said cheerfully, leading the way back to the Impala.

* * *

"Jo? Go pull up another case of beer." Ellen told her daughter when they three sat down in the roadhouse.

"Mom—"

"Now. Please? So you wanna tell me about this last hunt of yours?" Ellen asked them once Jo had left the room with a scowl.

"No. Not really." Ellen glared at him but Dean just shrugged it off. "No offence, just... it's kind of a family thing."

"Not anymore." She put paperwork on the table in front of them. "I got this stuff from Ash. Andrew Gallagher's house burnt down on his six-month birthday, just like your house. You think it was the demon both times, don't you? You think it went after Gallagher's family."

"Yeah, we thing so."

"Sam."

"Why?"

"None of you business."

"Mind your tone with me boy. This isn't just your war, this is war. Now, something big and bad is coming, and it's coming fast, and their side holds all the cards. Now at best, all we've got it us, together. No secrets of half-truths here."

After a brief pause, Sam spoke up. "There are people out there, like Andrew Gallagher... like me. And um... we all have some kind of ability."

"Ability?"

"Yeah, a psychic ability." Dean shakes his head angrily and Harry sighed and leant back in his chair. "Me—I have visions... premonitions. I don't know, it's different for everybody. The demon said he had plans for people like us."

"What kind of plans?"

"We don't really know for sure."

"These people out there, these psychics – are they dangerous?"

"No. Not all of them."

"But some are. Some are _very_ dangerous."

"Okay, how many of 'em are we lookin' at?"

"We've been able to track a clear pattern so far. They've all had house fires on the night of the kid's six-month birthday." Dean said leaning forwards slightly.

"That's not true." Sam corrected, frowning.

"What?"

"Webber, or Ansem Weems, or whatever his name is—I looked at his files, and there was no house fire. He's nothing out of the ordinary."

"Which breaks the pattern. So if there's any others like him, there'll be nothing in the system. No way to track 'em all down."

"And so, who knows how many of 'em are really out there?" Dean questioned, looking at the other three.

"Jo, honey?"

"Yeah?"

"You better break out the whiskey instead."

**A/N – Well I must say, many of the reviews I got were very encouraging, so thank you for that. I'll post this chapter and see if I can get inspiration to finish more chapters. Thank you again to everyone who reviewed, this chapter is for you. **


	7. No Exit

Chapter Six – No Exit

Standing outside of Harvell's Roadhouse, Sam, Dean and Harry were standing, talking by the Impala. Harry, bored, was scuffing his feet and occasionally throwing nervous glances to the Roadhouse.

"Los Angeles, California." Dean stated suddenly, making Harry jump and look up at the brothers.

"Huh?"

"What's in L.A?" Sam asked, looking up at Dean.

"A young girl has been kidnapped by an evil cult."

"Yeah? Girl got a name?"

"Katie Holmes." Sam and Harry laughed, getting a grin from Dean.

"That's funny. And for you, so bitchy." Sam said once he had stopped laughing, wiping a tear from his eyes. The three men then turned their attention back to the roadhouse where they could hear arguing.

"Of course, on the other hand—catfight."

"Think we should go see what it's about?" Harry asked absently, still looking at the roadhouse.

"Think it's wise?" Sam asked, also looking at the roadhouse.

"I don't think so."

"Me either."

"God, you two are a bunch of girls. Come on." Dean hissed at them, standing up straight and walking towards the roadhouse.

"Dean!" Sam hissed, looking at Dean before turning back to face Harry.

"Don't look at me. He doesn't listen to me." Harry said with a shrug. "maybe we should follow him."

"Fine. Come on." Sam sighed before hurrying to catch up with Dean.

"—etting yourself killed in some dusty backroad, _that's_ where you belong?" Ellen yelled, just as Dean entered with Harry and Sam following close behind. "Guys, bad time."

"Yes, ma'am." Sam agreed, looking like he wanted to be anywhere but there.

"Yeah, we rarely drink before ten, anyway."

"Wait. I wanna know what they think about this." Jo stated, making the three men look like they were caught in a headlight.

"I don't care what they think." Ellen stated, just as a family of four entered, each one was wearing a t-shirt that said 'Nebraska is for lovers'.

"Are you guys open?" The father asked, making Jo and Ellen answer at the same time.

"No!'

"Yes!" The family looked around, confused, while Sam grinned at them sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"We'll just check out the Arby's down the road." The father told them before they all left. The phone rang then and Jo gestured for Ellen to answer it.

"Harvelle's?" ... "Yeah."

Whilst Ellen was talking on the phone, Jo walked over to Dean and handed him a file, who looked at Jo strangely. "Three weeks ago, a young girl disappears from a Philadelphia apartment. Take it. It won't bite."

"No, but your mom might." Dean said, ignoring the sniggers from Harry. Jo huffed and glared at him, and he reluctantly took the file from her.

"And this girl wasn't the first. Over the past eighty years, six women have vanished – all from the same building, all young blondes. Only happens every decade or two, so cops never eyeball the pattern. So we're either dealing with a very old serial killer, or—"

"Who put this together? Ash?"

"I did it myself."

"Hm..."

"I've got to admit, we've hit the road for a lot less." Sam told him, looking over his shoulder at the file.

"Good. If you like the case so much, _you_ take it." Ellen exclaimed as she hung up the phone.

"Mom!"

"Joanna Beth, this family has lost enough. I won't lose you, too. I just won't."

* * *

When they arrived at the apartment Sam and Dean got out their EMF meters and started to look around the room, leaving Harry to stand there doing nothing.

"I feel kind of bad, snaking Jo's case." Sam said from a corner of the room. Harry shrugged and turned back to drawing archaic symbols on the wall.

"Yeah, maybe she put together a good file. But could you see her out there, working one of these things? I don't think so."

"Is any one getting anything?" Harry asked suddenly, looking up from drawing a pentagram.

"No, not yet." Sam said with a sigh, before turning back to a light switch on the wall. "What's that?"

"What?" Dean and Harry both asked at the same time, walking over to Sam just as he put his finger in some white goo.

"Ew,"

"Holy crap." Sam exclaimed, rubbing his fingers together. Dean leant over and did the same before looking contemplative.

"That's ectoplasm."

"I knew that."

"Well, Sam, I think I know what we're dealing with here. It's the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man." Dean said, ignoring Harry and Sam's eye roll.

"Dean, I've only seen this stuff, like, twice. I mean, to make this stuff, you have to be one majorly pissed off spirit." Sam told them.

"All right, let's find this badass before he snags anymore girls."

"I hate ghosts. Sprits. Poltergeists. Whatever." Harry muttered as they left the apartment. In the hallway, they could hear voices down the hallway. Jo turned the corner, talking to the superintendent.

"Oh dear."

"All the apartments have been furnished, too."

"It's so spacious. You know, my friend told me that I absolutely had to come and check it out, and I have to admit that she was right. You did a really good job with this place."

"Oh we're in trouble." Harry muttered, moving to stand behind Sam.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Dean hissed, making Harry shy back even further behind Sam.

"There you are honey." Jo walked over to Dean and snaked her arm around his waist, much to the surprise and confusion of Harry.

"Er..."

"This is my boyfriend, Dean and his buddies, Sam and Harry."

The superintendent shook their hands, and smiled at them, "Good to meet you. Quite a gal you've got here."

"Oh yeah, she's a pistol." Dean said with a chuckle.

Harry rolled his eyes and looked up at Sam, who smiled at him widely. "You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"So, did you check out the apartment? The one for rent?" Jo asked when Dean didn't answer.

"Y-yeah, yes. Loved it. Great flow."

"How'd you get in?"

"Ah." Harry said, taking a step to stand behind Sam once again, much to Sam's amusement.

"It was open." Dean said, looking back to glare at Harry.

"Now, Ed, when did the last tenant move out?"

"Oh, about a month ago. Cut and run too. Stiffed me for the rent."

Jo laughed and smiled widely at Ed. "Well, her loss, our gain. 'Cause if Dean-o loves is, that's good enough for me."

"Dean-o?" Harry whispered to Sam incredulously.

"Oh, Sweetie." Dean said with a wide smile, hitting Jo on the back.

Jo took out a wad of money and handed it to Ed "We'll take it."

"Okay." A stunned Ed agreed. Harry watched him put the wad of money in his back pocket and then sighed when Sam shook his head when noticing where Harry was looking.

* * *

Later on in the apartment Dean and Sam were sorting through their guns whilst Harry watched them dispassionately and Jo looked at the research for the hunt.

"I'll flip you for the sofa." Jo said after a few more minutes of silence. Dean looked up and narrowed his eyes.

"Does your mother know you're here?"

"I told her I was going to Vegas."

"Pfft." Harry snorted with a shake of his head, ignoring the glare Jo sent him.

"You think she's gonna buy that?" Dean asked, voicing the question running around Harry's head.

"I'm not an idiot. I got Ash to lay a credit card trail all the way to the casinos." Jo stated proudly. Harry snorted and rolled his eyes when Sam glanced at him.

Dean shook his head and sighed in exasperation, "You know, you shouldn't lie to your mom. You shouldn't even be here, either."

"You tell her, Dean."

"Shut up, Reaper. I am here, so untwist you bowers and deal with it."

"Where'd you get all that money from, anyways?" Sam asked, speaking up for the first time since Jo had arrived.

"Working at the Roadhouse."

"Hunters don't tip that well." Dean stated, looking at Jo suspiciously.

"Well, they aren't that good at poker, either." Jo told them just as Dean's phone stated to ring and he answered it.

"Yeah?"

Harry stepped closer to Dean and listened into the conversation, ignoring the glare he received from the other brother. "Is she with you?"

"Oh, hi Ellen."

"She left a note she's in Vegas. I don't believe it for a second."

"Don't you dare tell her I'm here." Jo hissed, and Harry snickered before sticking his tongue out at the glaring girl.

"Dean?"

"I haven't seen her."

"You sure about that?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"Well, please , if she shows up, you'll drag her butt right back here won't you?"

"Absolutely."

"Okay. Thanks hon." Dean hung up the phone and turned to look at Jo, who smiled widely at him.

* * *

Later the four were looking at research about the building, trying to figure out who the ghost was. Jo was twirling a small knife in her hands as she talked to them.

"This place was built in 1924. It was originally a warehouse, converted into apartments a few months ago." Jo told them absently as she read.

"Yeah? What was here before 1924?" Dean asked, pacing the room, which made Harry dizzy watching.

"Stop pacing. Nothin was here, it was an empty field." Harry told them, beating Jo who then glared at him, which just made Harry smile widely at her.

Sam grinned then hid it behind the laptop he was researching on. "So, most likely scenario – someone died bloody in the building and now he's back and raising hell."

"I already checked. In the past eighty-two years, zero violent deaths, unless you count a janitor who slipped on a wet floor." She then turned to Dean, who stopped pacing and looked at her. "Would you sit down, please?"

Dean exchanged a glance with Sam before he sat down, which made Harry huff in annoyance. Jo smirked at Harry, who glared back at her. "Watch it, girly."

"So, have you checked the police reports? County death records?" Dean asked, interrupting Jo when she was about the retort to Harry.

"Obituaries, mortuary reports, and seven other sources. I know what I'm doing."

"I think the jury's still out on that one." Harry snorted and Dean rolled his eyes when Jo glared at them both. "Could you put the knife down?"

"I wasn't gonna kill him."

"Like you could."

"Okay." Sam said suddenly, stopping Jo before she could carry on the argument. Or try to kill Harry. "So, it's something else, then. Maybe some kind of cured object that brought the spirit with it."

"We've gotta scan the whole building. Whatever we can get to, right?"

"Right, so, you and me – we'll take the top two floors."

"We'd move faster if we split up."

"Oh, this isn't negotiable."

"Oh I don't know. If you're lucky you could lose her. This big bad might be interested in taking her off our hands." Harry said innocently, smiling widely when Jo spun round and glared at him.

"Leave her alone. You're with me in this search." Dean told Jo before they grabbed whatever they might need and left the apartment.

* * *

"So what did you find?" Sam asked when Dean and Jo entered the apartment later that day.

"We found a scalp."

"Pardon?" Harry asked, stopping in his step to look at Dean.

"We found a souvenir from the last girl. It appears the ghost collects hair form the girls."

"Could have just been an accident."

"It still had the scalp attached."

"I note you didn't lose her."

"Stop being bitchy, Harry." Dean told him though he looked slightly amused at Harry's bitching.

"Fine." Harry agreed with a put upon sigh.

"So did you find anything else?" Sam asked before Harry could sulk even more.

"Just a reading on the EMF meter. Not much really. We have a lead to where he is coming from though."

"Well, that's something. Shall we get some rest and start again in the morning."

"Sure. I get the bed." Jo stated suddenly, glancing at Harry who rolled his eyes and walked over to the table.

"I get this table."

"Ooh, comfortable."

"I don't sleep, you silly little girl."

"Harry."

"Oh fine, but she started it."

* * *

The next morning, Jo walked into the main living area, smiling brightly at Sam, who was just waking up and then scowling when she caught a sight of Harry sitting on the table.

"Off the table. People want to eat."

"Who?"

"Me?"

"Again, let me ask, who?"

"Move."

"Harry." Sam said with a sigh and Harry pouted and scowled.

"Fine." Harry sighed, slowly getting off the table, glaring at Jo as he moved. "When are we going to wake him up?"

"We're not. I'm gonna go and fetch some coffee. Both of you behave whilst I'm gone."

"Fine."

"Whatever."

"Good. I wont be long." Sam told them as he left. Harry sighed and moved to sit on the sofa, looking at Dean, who was sleeping in an armchair, in a very uncomfortable position.

When Dean finally woke up about five minutes after Sam had left, groaning as he moved, and cracking his joints back into place.

"Morning, princess." Jo called from her place at the kitchen table, twirling her knife as she read some research.

"Where's Sam?"

"Went to get coffee." Harry answered before Jo could.

"Ugh, my back. How'd you sleep on that big, soft bed?" Dean groaned, looking over at Jo, who was still absently twirling the knife as she read through some papers.

"I didn't. Just been going over everything."

Dean didn't answer, instead he got his duffle bag and took out a much larger knife. "Here."

"What's this for?" Jo asked, taking the larger knife.

"It'll work a hell of a lot better than that little pigstick you've been twirling around." She handed him her knife, which Dean looked at and saw the initials W.A.H engraved on it.

"William Anthony Harvelle."

"I'm sorry. My mistake." Dean told her, handing the knife back.

"What so you... what do you remember about your dad? I mean, what's the first thing that pops into your head." Dean shook his head, as Harry shifted on the sofa to look at them both. "Come on, tell me."

"I was six or seven. And uh... he took me shooting for the first time. Bottles on a fence – that kind of thing. I bulls-eyed every one of 'em. And he gave me this smile, like... I don't know."

"He must have been proud."

"What about your dad?"

"I was still in pigtails when my dad died, but I remember him coming home from a hunt. And he'd burst through that door like.. like Steve McQueen or something. And he'd sweep me up in his arms, and I'd breath in that old leather jacket of his. And my mom, who was sour and pissed from the minute he left – she started smiling again. And we were... we were a family. You wanna know why I wanna do the job? For him. It's my way of being close to him. Now, tell me, what's wrong with that?"

"Nothing."

"So, Reaper. Can you remember your father. Do you even _have_ parents?"

"Of course I had parents, did you think reapers just appeared out of thin air? They died when I was one though, so no, I don't have any memories. I suppose you could say Hank is my father."

"Who's Hank?"

"Really? Hank?"

"Hank is Death and yes, why?"

"No reason, you just seem a bit closer than is legal for a parent and a child."

"Yes, well."

"Well what?"

"Sam! Where's the coffee?" Harry asked, when Sam walked through the door.

"There are cops outside. Another girl disappeared."

* * *

Later, Sam, Harry and Jo were continuing with their research whilst Dean went out to try and find some information on the girl that had disappeared. They all looked up when Dean walked through the door.

"Teresa Ellis – apartment 2-F. Her boyfriend reported her missing around dawn."

"And her apartment?"

"Cracks all over the plaster – walls ceiling. There's ectoplasm too."

"Between that and that tuft of hair, I'd say this sucker's coming from the walls." Sam said, looking up from the research.

"Yeah, but who is it? The buildings history is totally clean."

"Maybe we're looking in the wrong place." Jo said absently, looking at a photo in her hands.

"What do you mean?"

"Check this out." Jo told them, handing the photo to Dean.

"An empty field?" Sam asked, looking at the photo over Dean's shoulder. Harry walked over and glanced at the photo, before looking at Jo in confusion.

"It's where this building was built. Take a look at the one next door." Harry glanced at the building next to it, noticing it was dilapidated but that was about it. "The windows." Looking again he noticed that the windows were barred.

"Bars." Sam said, noticing the same thing Harry had.

"We're next door to a prison?"

* * *

Jo wandered around the room, talking on the phone to Ash whilst Dean and Sam looked at research and Harry was lazing on the kitchen table, seemingly doing nothing.

"Can't you ask Hank?"

"Nope. That would be abuse of um... rights and such."

"Thanks Ash. And if you breath a word of this to my mom—[...] That's right. I will. With pliers." Jo hung up the phone and turned to the brothers. "Okay. Moyamensing Prison – built in 1835, torn down in 1963. And get this – they used to execute people by hanging them in the empty field next door."

"Well, then we need a list of all the people executed there."

"Ash is already on it."

"You do realise the list is going to be endless right?" Harry asked in a bored tone, sighing as he sat up to look at the three hunters.

"What would you know?"

"I know that there were specially situated reapers at these places just to collect the souls."

"How many would you say?" Sam asked, cutting Jo off from saying anything else to Harry.

"Over a hundred at least. Maybe a hundred and fifty."

"That's not that many."

"It's enough, girly."

"Don't call me girly."

"Don't undermine me then."

"I know a lot of Hunters that would love to say they had killed a hunter."

"And I know Death. I think I win." Harry pointed out with a smirk, which widened when Jo scowled at him.

"Jo. Stop. Harry. Stop responding."

"Guys, Ash has sent us a list." Dean told them, looking at the laptop.

"157 names?" Sam asked, looking at the list.

"Told you so."

"We've got to narrow that down."

"Yeah." Sam agreed, still looking at the list.

"Or else we're gonna be digging up a hell of a lot of stiffs." Dean told them, Sam looked closely at the list and then looked up.

"Herman Webster Mudgett?"

"Yeah?

"Wasn't that H.H. Holmes' real name?"

"Yep." Harry answered, jumping off the table and walking over to the three hunters.

"You've gotta be kidding me."

"Nope. Look on the bright side, we may have found our ghost."

"Great. Lets look him up." Dean muttered, puling the laptop to face him and then searching for newspapers online.

"Found anything?" Harry asked a while later.

"Yup. Holmes was executed at Moyamensing May 7, 1896." Dean told them, still looking at a newspaper article.

"H.H. Holmes himself. Come on, I mean, what are the odds?"

"Who _is _this guy?" Jo asked looking frustrated at the lack of information she was receiving.

"The term 'multi-murderer' – they coined it to describe Holmes. He was Americas first serial killer before anybody knew what a serial killer was." Dean told her, looking up from the article he was reading.

"Yeah, he confessed to twenty-seven murders, but some put the death told at over a hundred."

"And his victim flavour of choice? Pretty, petite blondes." Sam told her, Jo smiled half-heartedly. "He used chloroform to kill 'em... Which is what I smelled in the hallway last night. At his place, cops found human remains – bone fragments and long locks of bloody, blonde hair. Boy, he sure knew how to pick 'em."

"So, we'll just find the bones, salt them, and burn them right?" Jo said with a bright smile.

"Well, it's not that easy. His body is buried in town, but it's encased in a couple of tons of concrete." Sam told her, bursting her bubble pretty quickly.

Jo deflated slightly and looked at the brothers in confusion. "What? Why?"

"Story goes that he didn't want anybody mutilating his corpse, 'cause, you know, that's what he used to do."

"You know something? We might have an even bigger problem than that." Sam, bringer of good news, told them.

"How does this get bigger?"

"Holmes built an apartment building in Chicago. They called it The Murder Castle. The whole place was a death factory. They had trapdoors, add vats, quicklime pits. He built these secret chambers... in side walls. He'd lock his victims in, keep them alive for days. Some he'd suffocate, others he'd let starve to death."

"So, Teresa could still be alive. She could be inside _these_ walls." Jo summed up, looking at the walls around her.

"We need sledgehammers, crowbars – we've gotta smash these walls anywhere thick enough to hide a girl."

* * *

"How come we got the southeast?" Harry asked when Sam had hung up from talking to Jo on the phone.

"Are you going to complain for the duration of this search?"

"Yep. How come Dean got the bait?"

"Jo's not bait."

"So you say. Have we nearly finished yet?"

"Yes, We'll go look for Dean and Jo in a minute, let me just check this wall."

"You know she's not going to be there."

"No, suppose not."

"Come on, lets find Dean and the Bait."

"She's not bait."

"Why not? We'd have more luck finding this guy if she was."

"You wanna tell Ellen that we used her daughter as bait?"

"You do have a good point there."

"Exactly." Sam said dryly, then sighed when he found nothing.

"Find anything?"

"No"

"Told you, you wouldn't."

"Why are you so pessimistic today?"

"I dunno. I just wish we would find this damned ghost and get it over with. I hate ghosts."

"Why?"

"They're not natural."

"Some would say the same thing about you."

"You don't get much more natural than death."

"True, but you're cheating it."

"Not through choice."

"You mean you'd willingly die tomorrow?"

"No, not anymore. Before I met you two I would have though."

"Why?"

"In case you've forgotten, I was enslaved to a crazy wench who wanted her husband to be considered the second coming." Harry snarled angrily, glaring at the wall, then sighing and shooting a shocked Sam an apologetic look.

"Ah, you do have a point."

"Thank you."

"Now lets go find Dean." Sam said, turning around and leading the way back to where Jo had said she and Dean were. "So, you don't like being immortal?"

"Whatever gave you that impression? I just didn't like being enslaved to Mrs LeGrange. Other than that little blip in my unlife, immortality is pretty cool."

"Well that's good, I suppose."

"Yeah."

They both walked around the next corner and literally bumped into Dean, who was heading the opposite direction. "Whoa."

"He's got Jo."

"What? How'd that happen?"

"Told you she was bait!"

"Not helping."

"I wasn't with her, I left her alone. Damn it!"

"Okay, look, we'll find her, all right?"

"Where?"

"Inside the walls."

"We've been inside the walls all night. If none of the other girls are there, she won't be, either." Dean exclaimed as they walked into their apartment.

"Look, try to take a beat and thing about this. Maybe we got Holme's M.O wrong."

"We better freakin' think fast." Dean told them before answering his phone. "Yeah?"

"..."

"Ellen." Dean squeaked, before coughing and looking at Harry and Sam in panic. Both walked over and patted Dean on the shoulder.

"She's gonna have to call you back. She's taking care of feminine business."

"Where is she?" Harry glanced at Dean when he heard Ellen yell down the phone.

"Look, we'll get her back."

"Get her back? Back from what?"

"The spirit we're hunting, it took her."

"..."

"She'll be okay, I promise."

"You promise? That is not the first time I've heard that from a Winchester."

"What?"

"If anything happens to her..."

"It won't I won't et it. Ellen, I'm sorry. I really am."

"..."

"Damn it."

"What?"

"She's taking the first flight out to us."

"Don't beat yourself up, Dean. There's nothing you could have done."

"Tell me you've got something."

Sam looked at his research before looking back up at his brother. "Maybe, look. If you look at the layout of the Holmes Murder Castle, there's other torture chambers inside the walls, right?"

"Right."

"But there's one we haven't considered yet - the one in his basement."

"This building doesn't have a basement."

"You're right. It doesn't. But I just noticed this – beneath the foundation, it looks like part of an old sewer system. It hasn't been used for –"

"Let's go."

* * *

Dean and Sam walked around the street with a metal detector and a shovel. They all walked into a field, with Harry trailing closely behind, dragging his shovel behind him and sighing.

"Here." Sam said suddenly, making Harry stop and look up. Dean took his shovel and began to dig.

A few minutes later, they had dug a deep hole, deep enough to uncover a trapdoor. They opened the door and saw a ladder leading down into the sewer system. They grabbed their guns and headed down the steps.

When they got down in the sewer, they followed the sounds of someone screaming. They ran through the tunnels in time to see Holmes reaching into a locked cubicle, trying to muffle the screams of whoever was in there.

"Hey!" Holmes turned around to face the brothers, and they shot him from behind a small doorway. He vanished and Sam and Dean opened the gate and approached the metal cases. "Jo?"

"I'm here!" Dean used a tool to get her cubicle open, whilst Sam and Harry walked over to Teresa's case.

"We're gonna get you out of here, all right?" Sam called, smiling warmly when Teresa nodded.

"Sam!" Dean called, handing Sam the tool he used to open Jo's cubicle and Sam opened Teresa's case. "Hang on." He finished opening Jo's cubicle and she got out. "You all right?"

"Been better. Let's get the hell out of here before he comes back."

"Actually, I don't think you're leaving here just yet."

"What?"

"Remember when I said you being bait was a bad plan? Now it's kind of the only one we've got."

"Told you she was bait." Harry muttered to Sam, who just sighed and tried to hide the grin on his face.

* * *

Later Jo was sitting in the middle of the room, waiting for Holmes to turn up. Suddenly Holmes appeared behind her, slowly approaching her.

"Now!" Dean shouted.

Jo moved out of the way and Sam and Dean shot. They hit two bags of salt that were perched on a ledge, and they fell to the ground. A ring of salt that was surrounding the room was now complete. Ho climbed out of the ring and joined Sam, Harry and Dean behind the gateway. Realising he was now trapped, Holmes began to scream.

"Scream all you want, you dick, but there's no way you're stepping over that salt!" Jo shouted, as they all made their way back out of the sewers.

"So, is this job as glamorous as you thought it would be?" Sam asked Jo when they were in the field that the sewer entrance was found.

"Well, except for all the pee-your-pants terror, yeah." The two hunters laughed and Harry rolled his eyes. "But that Teresa girl is gonna live a life 'cause of us. It's worth it, isn't it?"

"Yeah. Yeah, it is."

"Oh god, I think I'm gonna throw." Harry groaned, getting a snort of amusement from Sam, whilst Jo glared at him.

"Shut it, Reaper. What if somebody finds the sewer down there, or a storm washes the salt away?"

"Both very fine points. Which is why we're waiting here."

"For what?" Jo asked, just as the sound of beeping could be heard. They all turned and saw Dean backing up a cement truck.

"For that." Sam said, before he moved and started to signal Dean to stop the truck. Dean got out and then lowered the slide, angling it down into the sewer.

"You ripped off a cement truck?" Jo exclaimed, Dean shrugged and then smirked.

"I'll give it back." He pushed the lever and they all watched the cement flow down the slide into the ground. "Well that'll keep him down there 'til hell freezes over."

* * *

In the Impala, later that day, Harry, Sam and Jo all sat in the back seat, whilst Ellen and Dean sat in the front. The tension was almost palpable and Harry sighed, leaning into Sam slightly.

"Boy, you—you really weren't kidding about flying out, were you?" Dean said after a long pause. Ellen stared straight ahead and didn't answer. "How about we listen to some music." He turned on the Foreigner's "Cold as Ice" but Ellen immediately shut it off. Sam and Harry exchanged a look and Dean sighed. "This is gonna be a long drive."

* * *

Back at the Roadhouse, the five entered the building and all five looked at each other before Dean sighed and looked at Ellen.

"Ellen? This is my fault. Okay? I lied to you, and I'm sorry. But Jo did good out there. I think her dad would be proud."

"Don't you _dare_ say that. Not you. I need a moment with my daughter – alone." The boys left the roadhouse and walked over to the Impala.

"Think she will be okay?" Sam asked, leaning on the hood of the Impala.

"I hope so."

"Why? It was her fault for going against her mother." Harry told them and both brothers looked at him with a small amount of shock.

"You don't have one compassionate bone in your body do you?" Dean asked, looking at Harry incredulously.

"Sure I do. I just don't like Jo."

"Why not? I mean, she hasn't done anything to you."

"Maybe not, she just rubs me the wrong way."

"So you don't actually have a reason to hate her."

"Not really."

Dean opened his mouth to respond when Jo came outside. She walked away form them, but Dean followed behind her.

"That bad, huh?"

"Not right now."

"What happened?" Dean grabbed her shoulder "Hey, talk to me."

"Get off me." Jo said, shoving Dean away from her,

"Sorry, see you around."

"Dean... it turns out my dad had a partner on his last hunt. Funny, he usually worked alone. This guy did, too. But I guess my father figured he could trust him – a mistake. Guy screwed up, got my dad killed."

"What does this have to do—"

"It was your father, Dean."

"What?"

"Why do you think John never came back, never told you about us? 'Cause he couldn't look my mom in the eye after that. That's why."

"Jo—"

"Just... just get out of here. Please, just leave."

**A/N – So here's another chapter. Hopefully everyone enjoyed it, it was pretty hard to write if I'm honest with you. It was mainly about Dean and Jo, so not much time for Harry and Sam. Hopefully the bits with Harry do mesh in well though. If not, then I'm really sorry and I'll try harder next chapter! Thank you for reading! **


	8. The Usual Suspects

Chapter Seven – The Usual Suspects

Harry groaned and put his hands in the air as the S.W.A.T team broke down the door and charged their way into the small motel room. Sam put his hands in the air, glancing at Harry in panic, just as the detective wandered in, looking quite smug.

"Going somewhere, Sam? And you have a little friend."

* * *

In the interrogation room, where Harry had been placed away from Sam, he was amusing himself by tracing patterns on the table with his finger and sighing occasionally. He had thought being caught by the police would be more exciting than it actually was. Harry stopped tracing patterns when the door opened to his room and the detective walked in, and placed a coffee mug in front of him.

"Thought you might be thirsty."

"I don't like coffee. Could I have tea?"

"Good try, take it or leave it."

"Fine." Harry sulked, pulling the mug towards him and taking a sip of the black drink. "Where's Sam?"

"He's being questioned, just like his brother."

"Why am I here?"

"That's what we would like to know. Why are you with the Winchester brothers?"

"Cause I like them. Why are you holding us? You don't have anything on us."

"You and Sam, no, we don't. Dean on the other hand, he's being held on suspicion of murder."

"Murder? Dean?"

"You sound genuinely surprised. So did Sam, when we told him. Are you both that good of an actor?"

"Who did he supposedly murder? I mean, I don't like Dean, but I don't see him as a murderer."

"We'll get round to that."

"Surely you can't just hold us here without formal charges."

"Actually, we can, for forty-eight hours. Strangely I don't know anything about you, you aren't in our records, you have no birth certificate that I can find. You certainly don't have a visa to be here. So who are you? And why shouldn't I have you deported."

"Ah, can I have my one phone call?"

"Who would you have to call?"

"Hank, he's my um... friend."

"We'll see."

"Hey, surely it's my right to get a phone call!"

"I said I'll see about it."

"Can I see Sam?"

"No."

"Fine."

* * *

Later, after an indeterminable time, the detective, who Harry had learnt was called Ballard, came back in the room.

"So, feel like answering some questions?"

"Feel like giving me my phone call?"

"Ah, I'll take that as a yes. What's your name?"

"I told you that when I was first brought here. I'm Harry Potter."

"See, we checked that name, and the only Harry Potter that came up, that was English, died nearly nine years ago."

"Really? Well I'm sitting right here, and I'm called Harry Potter. Maybe you've got the wrong one."

"There are no others."

"Really? 'Cause Harry Potter is a common name. Not like... Nymphadora." Harry commented lightly, grinning as he thought of what that womans face would have beenlike had she heard him call her Nymphadora.

"Tell me your name?"

"I have! Can I have my phone call?"

"Maybe later."

* * *

"Right, you get your phone call."

"Really?"

"Yes. Come on." Ballard stated as he unclipped Harry's hands and lead him out of the small interrogation room.

"Thank you." Harry said as he was lead to the phone and left there, with a cop as supervision. Harry dialled the one number he had committed to memory but had never thought he would need.

"Hello?"

"Hank."

"Harry? What's wrong?"

"I'm in a bit of trouble."

"Where are you?"

"In prison in Baltimore."

"And you want me to come and get you?"

"Please."

"I won't be able to help the brothers."

"I know."

"I'll be right there."

"Thank you."

"You know I'll do anything I can for you, Harry."

"I know."

"I'll want to know what happened."

"I'll tell you when I get out of here."

"I'll see you in a bit."

"Thank you."

* * *

"Mr Potter, someone has posted bail for you. You're free to go, but don't leave town."

"Yes yes, can I go now?"

"Yes." Harry smiled widely at Ballard and left the room, rubbing his wrists where the hand cuffs had rubbed. Standing in the waiting room was Hank, who was glaring at everyone that looked in his direction. When he saw Harry, he smiled widely and walked over to him.

"Come on you, let's go get a motel room and you can tell me all about what has happened."

"Okay."

* * *

At the motel, Hank sat on the bed and looked at Harry expectantly. Harry sighed and sat down on the table in the room, before he looked at Hank.

"We were in Nebraska when Dean found the next case..."

_

* * *

Harry and Dean were sitting in a café, Dean was reading a newspaper, when he placed it on the table and tapped the article with the title 'Man's Throat Slit Without a Trace.'_

_Sam walked over and placed a tray with three coffees on it "Here you go."_

"_Anthony Giles." Dean said making Harry look at him strangely._

"_Who's Anthony Giles?"_

"_The Baltimore lawyer. Working late at his office, check it out." Dean said handing the newspaper to Sam._

"_His throat was slit but the room was clean. Huh. No DNA, no prints."_

"_Keep reading, it gets better."_

"_Security cameras failed to capture footage of the assailant."_

"_So I'm thinking either somebody tampered with the tapes..."_

"_Or it's an invisible killer." Harry said, stirring his coffee slowly._

"_My favourite kind. What do you think, Scully? We'll check it out?" Dean asked, looking at Sam._

"_I'm not Scully, you're Scully."_

"_No, I'm Mulder. You're a red-headed woman."

* * *

_

"So Dean's getting charged for a murder he didn't commit?"

"Yep. And Sam is still in there as well."

"So what happened next?"

"Next? We went to see the vic's wife."

* * *

_Dean, Harry and Sam were all dressed in suits, posing as insurance agents, sitting at the kitchen table with Karen Giles, who was crying._

"_Insurance. I totally forgot about the insurance." Karen sobbed, looking at paperwork._

"_We're very sorry to bother you right now. But the company is required to conduct its own investigation." Sam told her softly._

"_Sure."_

"_Well, if you could just tell us anything you remember about the night your husband died."_

"_Tony and I were just supposed to have dinner. He called and said that he was having computer troubles and that he had to work late. And that was it."_

"_Do you have any idea who could've done this to him?"_

"_No. No. It's like I told the police. I – I have no idea."_

"_Did Tony mention anything unusual to you in the days before his death?" Dean asked, leaning forward._

"_Unusual?"_

"_Yeah, like strange."_

"_Strange?"_

"_You know, Karen, weird. Weird noises, visions, anything like that?" Dean asked, Sam cleared his throat and glared at Dean form across the table._

"_He had a nightmare the day before he died."_

"_What kind of nightmare?"_

"_Uh, he said he woke up in the middle of the night and there was a woman standing at the foot of the bed. He blinked. She was gone. I mean, it was just a nightmare."_

"_Did he say what she looked like?"_

"_What the hell difference does it make what she looked like?"_

"_Uh, it's just... our company is very thorough."_

"_He said she was pale, and she had dark, red eyes."

* * *

_

"So you spoke to the wife. Why did you take this case anyway?"

"Well we didn't know that we were going to get arrested, did we?"

"Surely you should have known something was going to go wrong. Most reapers can sense something is going to go wrong. Reapers were feeling it for years when the plague hit Europe." Hank pointed out with a grimace and Harry sighed and shrugged.

"Yes, well I didn't, maybe my reaper-senses are failing, 'cause my senses certainly weren't tingling."

"Fine fine. What happened next?"

"Next, we broke into Giles' office. What else."

"What else indeed." Hank muttered, rolling his eyes.

* * *

_Dean picked the lock to the door to Anthony Giles' office and they all entered, avoiding the large puddle of blood on the floor._

"_Hey. Anthony Giles' body was found right about here." Sam told them, indicating to the blood and reading from a piece of paper. "Throat slit so deep, part of his spinal cord was visible."_

"_Nice."_

"_What do you think? Vengeful spirit? Underline 'vengeful'?" Dean asked, looking at the blood on the floor._

"_Yeah, maybe. He did see that woman at the foot of his bed." Sam said, Harry wandered around the room and picked up a piece of paper and read it. _

"_Take a look at this." He handed the paper to Sam, who read it. The paper had the word Dana Shulps written on it over and over._

"_Dana Shulps. What's that? A name?" Sam asked. Dean picked up another piece of paper with the same thing wrote on it._

"_I don't know, but it's everywhere. 'All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.'" Dean chuckled. At Giles' desk, Sam noticed something written on it. He breathed on the glass and saw Dana Shulps written in the condensation._

"_Wow. I'd say we've officially crossed over into weird."_

"_Maybe Giles knew her."_

"_Maybe it's the name of out pale, red-eyed mystery girl." _

"_Well, let's see what we can see." Dean said as they all began to search the files around the office._

_Later, when Dean and Harry had finished searching and Sam was on the computer, searching the files. _

"_There's not a single mention of a Dana Shulps anywhere. There's not a D. Shulps. Or any other kind of friggin' Shulps." Dean said frustrated._

"_Great."_

"_What have you got?" Harry asked, walking over to stand behind Sam and read over his shoulder._

"_Nothing. No Dana Shulps has ever lived or died in Baltimore in the last fifty years, at least."_

"_So what now?" Dean asked, leaning on the desk._

"_Well, I think I'm pretty close to cracking Giles' password. Maybe there's something in his personal files, you know?"_

"_By 'close', you mean..."_

"_Thirty minutes, maybe?" _

_Dean checked his watch and then looked at Sam. "Awesome." He took the seat across from Sam, "So I guess me and Harry just get to hang out. That's awesome." Dean then sighed in his seat and shuffled slightly. He then started to click his tongue against the roof of his mouth and making other weird sounds, successfully annoying Sam and Harry._

"_Dude, Seriously."_

"_All right, I'm gonna go talk to Karen again, see if she knows anything about this Dana Shulps, huh?"_

"_Great."_

"_Keep going, Sparky." Dean said before leaving the room.

* * *

_

"So what happened next?"

"Me and Sam went back to the motel. Next thing I know, we're being arrested. Apparently Dean was found at the scene of the murder of Mrs Giles. He's the only suspect they've got and all I have is a name."

"The only Dana Shulps alive right now lives in Canada. I don't think it was her. She's touching ninety."

"Great, so it's an anagram. I always was shit at Countdown." Harry muttered with a grimace, getting an amused look from Hank.

"Might be."

"So are you gonna help me get Dean and Sam out?"

"I don't know how."

"Find out how the Giles' died of course."

"You know how they died."

"Well yes, but I don't know why."

"Ah, I can't help you there."

"I know. I have no idea what to do now."

"Well we clearly have to find out what Dana Shulps means."

"Get a piece of paper and start writing them down."

* * *

"What about this?" Harry asked a few minutes later after they had both sat and started working on the anagram of Dana Shulps.

"What is that? Is it a street?"

"Ashland street?"

"Yes, I do believe its street here. So do you want to head there?"

"No, we head for a motel and find Jim Rockford."

"Why?"

"It's where Sam will be. In case we ever got split up."

"How do you know Sam will be there."

"I don't but at the moment it's all we've got."

"Fine, come on then."

"Don't you have souls to collect?"

"I'm not letting you out of my sight until this case is solved and you're no longer a suspect. Reapers should always remain out of sight."

"Yes, I know. My bad."

"The blame lies with those brothers. You would never have done this if it wasn't for them."

"Oh be quiet. Come on, lets go."

"This had better work."

* * *

"Told you we'd find Sam." Harry said cheerfully when they found that there was indeed a Jim Rockford staying at the motel they had tried.

"Either that, or we're about to find Jim Rockford."

"Well there is that."

"We're not."

"We're not?"

"No. There are a few Jim Rockford's, but none of them live here."

"Might be visiting."

"They might, but I'm betting it's Sam." Hank said with a sigh. Harry smiled and knocked on the door.

"Sam. Open up! It's me." Sam opened the door and looked at Harry before grinning and dragging him inside.

"What are you doing here? How did you get out?"

"Hank posted bail." Harry said, indicating to Hank who was standing behind him.

"Hey, Hank."

"Sam."

"So what have you got? We've just got the name of a street."

"Yeah, so did we-" Sam cut off when he heard a knock on the door. Sam turned to Harry, who shrugged and stepped closer to Hank.

Sam moved forward and opened the door, to reveal Detective Ballard at the door, about to knock again.

"Detective Ballard?"

"Ah, I see Harry is here with you. Dean told me how to find you."

"Why would he do that?" Sam asked suspiciously. Ballard held up her wrists and showed them the bruising that was the same as the bruises on both Giles' "Ah."

"These showed up after you saw it?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"All right. Then you're gonna have to tell me exactly what you saw."

"You know, I must be losing my mind. You're a fugitive. I should be arresting you."

"All right, well, you know what? You can arrest me later, after you live through this. But right now, you've gotta talk to me. Okay?" Ballard nodded and Harry gave a small sigh of relief. "Okay, great. Now this spirit – what did it look like?"

"She was, um... really pale and her throat was cut. And her eyes, they were this deep, dark red. It appeared like she was trying to talk to me, but she couldn't. There was just... a lot of blood."

"You know what, here. I've been researching every girl who's ever died or gone missing from Ashland Street."

"How'd you get those? Those are from crime scenes and booking photos."

"He's a fugitive, like he's gonna care." Harry pointed out, making Sam and Hank smirk.

"You have your job, I have mine. Here, I need you to look through these. Tell me if you recognise anyone." Ballard looked through the photos until she came across a mugshot of the woman she saw in the mirror.

"This is her. I'm sure of it."

"Claire Becker? Twenty-eight years old, disappeared about eight or nine months ago?"

"But I don't even know her. Why would she come after me?"

"Well, before her death, she was arrested twice for dealing with heroin. You ever work narcotics?"

"Yeah. Pete and I did, before homicide."

"You ever bust her?" Harry asked, holding up the picture of Claire Becker.

"Not that I remember."

"It says she was last seen entering 2911 Ashland Street. The police searched the place, didn't find anything. Guess we've gotta check it out ourselves. See if we can find a body."

"What?"

"Well, we've gotta salt and burn her bones. It's the only way to put her spirit to rest."

"Of course it is." Ballard said with a sigh and Harry snickered and moved to stand right next to Hank.

* * *

At 2911 Ashland Street The four were searching the basement of the building, well Harry, Sam and Ballard were searching the basement, Hank was standing at the entrance, waiting for them to finish.

"Don't you know where the body is?" Harry asked Hank when he passed.

"No, it wasn't my reap. Sorry."

"Sure you are."

"So what exactly are we looking for?"

"I'll let you know where we find it." Sam then passed Hank and went up the stairs. Ballard turned and saw Claire standing across the room from her.

"Sam! Harry!" Claire reached out to Ballard and Sam tan down the stairs, as Harry spun round and looked at her. "Sam!"

"Hey! Hey, I'm here. What is it? What happened?" They all looked around, but didn't see Claire anywhere.

"Claire."

"Where?"

"She was here."

"Did she attack you?"

"No. She was reaching out to me. She was over there, by the window." They moved over to the window and saw a large shelving unit in front of it. "Hey, help me move this." They moved it and on the window were the words 'Ashland Supplies'. However some of the letters in the 'Supplies' have been scratched away, and only the S – U – P is visible. "Our little mystery word."

"Now the extra letters make sense." Sam said before taking out a EMF meter.

"What is that?"

"Spirits and certain remains give off electromagnetic frequencies."

"So, if Claire's body was here, that would indicate that?"

"Yeah. Well that's the theory." Sam said as he moved over to the wall opposite that window and waved the EMF, which began to beep wildly. He exchanged a glance with Harry, who was standing next to a still silent Hank.

Sam then walked around the room, seemingly looking for something, Ballard glanced at Harry questioningly, and Harry shrugged, before looking back at Sam who was now wielding a metal pole, which he then used to break the brick in the wall.

"Yeah, yeah, there's definitely something in there." He said as he began to break the rest of the brick with his elbow. "You know, this is bothering me."

"I agree." Harry said as he watched Sam move the bricks out of the wall.

"Well, you _are_ digging up a corpse."

"No, not that. That's pretty par for the course, actually." Sam laughed, still moving bricks out of the way.

"Than what?"

"It's just... no vengeful spirit I've ever tussled with _wanted_ to be wasted, so why the hell would Claire lead us to her remains? It doesn't make any sense." Sam said as he finished breaking through the wall. "Give me a hand."

Harry moved over and began to help Sam take out a bag inside the wall and set it on the ground. Sam broke the rope and they opened the bag to see Claire's skeleton inside.

"Her wrists." Sam said, when Ballard pointed out the bound wrists to them. "Yeah, they'd be bruised just like yours. That necklace mean something to you?"

"I've seen it before. It's rare. It was custom-made over on Carson Street." Ballard showed them the same necklace around her neck. "I have one just like it. Pete gave it to me."

"Now this all makes perfect sense."

"I'm sorry?"

"Yeah. You see, Claire's not a vengeful spirit. She's a death omen."

"Like a Grim."

"Sure."

"Excuse me?"

"Claire's not killing anyone. She's trying to warn them. You see, sometimes spirits – they don't want vengeance, they want justice, which is why she led us here in the first place. She wants us to know who her killer is. Detective, how much to you know about your partner?"

"Oh, my God."

"What?"

"About a year ago, some heroin went missing from lock-up. Obviously, it was a cop. We never found out who did it. But whoever did it would need someone to fence their product."

"Somebody like a heroin dealer. Somebody like Claire."

* * *

Later, in the police car, with Hank and Harry sitting in the back, Ballard was on the phone.

"All right, thanks."

"What is it?"

"Pete just left the precinct. With Dean."

"What?"

"He said the prisoner had to be transferred, and he just took him. Dispatch has been calling, but he won't answer the radio."

"Radio? He took a county vehicle?"

"Yeah."

"Then it should have a LoJack. You've just gotta get it turned on."

* * *

They arrived at the sight of the police van just in time to see Pete holding a gun to Dean, who was talking to Pete.

"You wouldn't wanna do something you're gonna regret." Pete cocked the gun and kept it aimed at Dean. "Or maybe you do."

"Pete! Put the gun down!" Ballard yelled, as she and Sam and Harry broke into the clearing. Hank deciding to stay behind.

"Diana? How'd you find me?"

"I know about Claire."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Put the gun down!"

"No, I don't think so. You're fast. Pretty sure I'm faster."

"Why are you doing this?"

"I didn't do anything, Diana."

"It's a little late for that."

"It wasn't my fault. Claire was gonna turn me in, I had no choice."

"And Tony? Karen?"

"Same thing! Tony scrubbed the money, then he got skittish, and then he wanted to come clean. I'm sure he told Karen everything. It was a mess. I had to clean it up. I just panicked."

"How many more people are gonna die over this, Pete?"

"There's a way out. This Dean kid's a fringgin' gift. We can pin the whole thing on him, okay? No trial, nothing. Just one more dead scumbag."

"Hey!"

"No one will question it. Diana, please. I still love you." Ballard lowered her gun after a moments pause. "Thank you. Thank you." Pete aimed his gun at Dean just as Ballard raised her gun to shoot him. Pete then fell to the ground and Ballard approached him.

"Then why don't you buy me another necklace, you ass!" He grabbed her leg and she fell to the ground. Pete then grabbed his gun and stood up, pointing the gun at Dean, Sam and Harry, both of which had moved forward during the tussle, to stand near Dean.

"Don't do it! Don't do it!" He pointed the gun at all four of them. After a second, they see Claire appear by the police van. Whilst Pete watched her, in shock, Ballard grabbed her gun and shot him. He fell to the ground and Ballard looked on, shocked.

* * *

Later, whilst they were still in the clearing, Ballard approached Sam, Dean, Hank and Harry after looking at Pete's body.

"You doing all right?" Sam asked, looking over at the body.

"Not really. The death omen, Claire – what happens to her now?"

"It should be over. She should be at rest."

"So, uh... what now, officer?" Dean asked, moving forward slightly.

"Pete did confess to me. He screwed up both your cases royally. I'd say there's a good chance that we can get your cases dismissed."

"You could take care of that for us?"

"I hope so. But the St. Louis murder charges – that's another story. I can't help you. Unless... I just happened to turn my back and you walked away, I could tell them that the suspects escaped."

"Wait, are you sure?" Sam asked her and Harry, Dean and Hank all looked at him incredulously.

"Yeah, she's sure, Sam."

"No, it's just you could lose your job over something like that."

"I just want you guys out there, doing what you do best. Trust me. I'll sleep better at night. Listen, you need to watch your back. They're gonna be looking for both of you right now. Get out of here. I've got to radio this in."

"Hey, you wouldn't happen to know where my car is by chance."

"It's at the impound yard on Robertson." Dean thinks for a second before nodding. "Don't even think about it."

"It's okay, don't worry. We'll just improvise. We're pretty good at that."

"Yeah. I've noticed."

* * *

"Nice lady." Sam muttered as they all walked down the road towards the town.

"Yeah, for a cop. Did she look familiar to you?'

"No, why?"

"I don't know. Anyway, are you hungry?"

"No."

"For some reason I could really go for some pea soup."

"Sure, Dean."

"So how come tall, dark and doomy is here?"

"You mean me?' Hank asked, speaking for the first time that night.

"Yeah, what you doing here?"

"I came to bail out my reaper, seeing as I can't trust you two to look after him."

"Hey, it's not my fault."

"Of course not."

"It's not!"

"Very well, I believe you. Try not to drag Harry down with you next time."

"What do you mean next time?"

"I don't believe you will ever be able to stay out of trouble for long amounts of time Mr Winchester, especially now that you are wanted."

"Ah, well..."

"Say no more, you are only digging a hole."

"Hank." Harry said warningly, having managed to calm down his blush.

"I only speak the truth, Harry."

"Yes, well sometimes the truth is unneeded."

"Ah, it has been a while since I have had to speak with mortals."

"The truth is unneeded when you're dead as well."

"Ah. That will be why many reapers have fallen out with me. I'm amazed you haven't, little one."

"I might if you insist on calling me that."

"Ah, I am sorry."

"Good."

"Well, now that that's sorted out, shall we go find my baby?" Dean asked cheerfully when Harry and Hank both feel silent, Harry and Sam both rolled their eyes but Hank turned to pin Dean with a bemused look.

"You have a child?"

**A/N – Well another chapter done, sorry it's not as long as they normally are, but you did get a bit with Hank! Yay for Hank! Anyways, please review and tell me what you think! Thank you! **


	9. Crossroad Blues

Chapter Eight – Crossroad Blues

In a diner, Sam, Dean and Harry were all sitting in a booth, Dean was eating whilst Sam was searching for something on his laptop and Harry was making patterns in the spilt salt on the table.

"So much for low profile. You've got a warrant in St. Louis, and now you're officially in the Feds' database."

"Dude, I'm like Dillinger or something."

"Dean, it's not funny." Sam snapped, glaring at Harry when he snorted with laughter. "It makes the job harder. We've gotta be more careful now."

"Well what do they got on you?"

"I'm sure they just... haven't posted it yet."

"What, no accessory? Nothing?" Dean asked incredulously.

"Well Harry is wanted for skipping bail." Harry looked up at the mention of his name and paid more attention to what the brothers were saying.

"And you?"

"Shut up."

"You're jealous." Dean pointed out, a grin forming on his face.

"I'm wanted?" Harry asked in shock as he processed what Sam had just said.

"No, I'm not." Sam answered Dean, not hearing Harry's bemused question.

"Uh-huh. All right. What do you got on the case there, you innocent, harmless young man, you?" Dean asked with a wide grin. Sam shot him a scathing look then looked through a stack of papers.

"Wait, why am I wanted and he isn't?" Harry asked, looking at Dean seeing as Sam seemed to be sulking, Dean snorted and grinned widely.

"Obviously you look more suspicious than innocent boy here."

"Shut up, both of you. Here, architect Sean Boyden plummeted to his death from the roof of his home – a condominium he designed." Sam told them as he read from a sheet of paper.

"Hm. Build a high rise then jump off the top of it. That's classy. When did he call Animal Control?"

"Two days earlier."

"Did he actually say 'black dog'?"

"Yeah. 'Vicious, wild, black dog.' The authorities couldn't find it, no one else saw it. In fact, the authorities are a little confused as to how a wild dog could get past the doorman, take the elevator up, and start roaming the halls of the cushiest joint in town. After that, no more calls, he doesn't show up for work. Two days later, he takes a swan dive."

"Do you think we're dealing with an actual black dog?"

"Sounds like a Grim to me."

"What?"

"A Grim. It's a death omen, you see one and you die. I thought I saw one when I was thirteen. Terrified me. Turned out to be my Godfather."

"Right... so what's the lore on it?" Dean asked turning to Sam.

"It's pretty vague. But what Harry said was right. I mean, there's spectral black dogs all over the world, but some say they're animal spirits, others say death omens. But anyway, whatever they are, they're big, nasty..."

"Yeah, I bet they could hump the crap outta your leg. Look at that one, huh?" Dean said holding up a photo and chuckling. Sam glared at him, then at Harry who chuckled at the two brothers. "What? They could."

* * *

"So, you and Sean Boyden were business partners for almost ten years, right?" Sam asked a friend of Sean Boydens the next day.

"That's right. Now one more time, this is for...?"

"A tribute to Mr Boyden – _Architectural Digest_." The man laughed making Dean frown. "Funny to you?"

"No, it's just... a tribute. Yeah, see, Sean always got the tributes. He kills himself, leaves me and his family behind and he gets another tribute." The man told them, laughing mirthlessly.

"Right. Any idea why he'd do such a thing?" Sam asked, glancing at an invisible Harry as he tried to get past the man and into his apartment.

"I have no clue. I mean, he lived a charmed life."

"How so?" Sam asked, discreetly grabbing the back of Harry's shirt and stopping him form entering the apartment.

"He was a flat-out genius. I mean, I'm capable, but next to him... and he wasn't always that way either."

"No?" Dean asked, trying not to grin at a sulking Harry.

"You wanna know the truth? There was a time where he couldn't even design a pup tent. Hell, ten years ago, he's working as a bartender at this place called Lloyd's, a complete dive."

"Right. So, what changed?"

"You got me. But overnight, he gets this huge commission and he starts designing... he starts designing the most ingenious buildings anyone has ever seen. It was like the level of Van Gogh and Mozart. It..."

"Sounds like a demon." Harry muttered, sulking next to Sam.

"What?" Dean asked, though whom he was asking was unclear, even to him.

"It's funny. The true geniuses – they seem to die young don't they? To have that kind of talent... why? Why just throw it away."

"Sounds like a demon." Harry muttered, grinning at Dean when he looked at him out the corner of his eye.

* * *

Later they went to the Animal Protection Agency, deciding to send Dean in to try and get information from whoever happened to be in there. Not long after, Dean exited the building carrying a paper and joined Sam and Harry back in the Impala.

"So?" Sam asked when Dean didn't seem to be about to tell them anything.

"The secretary's name is Carly. She's twenty-three, she kayaks, and they're real." Dean told them with a huge grin on his face.

"You didn't happen to ask her if she's seen any black dogs lately, did you?"

Dean handed Sam the paper before answering. "Every complaint called in this week about anything big, black, or dog-like. There's nineteen calls in all, and uh..." He took a post-it note off of the paper and held it up, "I don't know what this thing is."

Sam read the paper and laughed at his brother. "You mean Carly's MySpace address?"

"Yeah, MySpace, what the hell is that? Seriously, is that like some sort of porn site?"

* * *

"I swear, if this is another freakin' Pomeranian barking in the neighbour's yard..." Dean muttered as he, Sam and an invisible Harry walked up to another apartment and knocked on the door. "Afternoon ma'am, animal control." Dean said with a smile, holding up his badge.

"Oh, someone already came yesterday."

"Oh, we're following up. We're looking for a Dr. Sylvia Perlman." The maid nodded and then let them in, Harry quickly slipping through the door before it closed.

"The doctor, well, she... I don't know exactly when she'll be back. She left two days ago."

"Okay. And you are?"

"I'm Miss Perlman's maid."

"So where did the doctor go?"

"She said she didn't know." Harry muttered as he wandered around the room, looking at the trinkets.

"I'm not sure. She just packed and went. She didn't say where. The stray dog, did you find it finally?"

"Uh, not yet. You know, you didn't ever happen to see the dog yourself, did you?"

"Well, no. I never even heard it. I was almost starting to think the doctor was imagining things, but she's not like that, so..."

"You know, I read she was chief surgeon at the hospital. She's gotta be what, forty-two, forty-three? That's pretty young for that job." Dean commented blandly.

"Youngest in the history of the place. She got the position ten years ago."

"Huh. An overnight success, ten years ago." Sam said, rubbing his head.

"Sounds like a Demon." Harry muttered, picking up a knife and looking at it.

"Yeah, we know a guy like that." Dean said, taking a photo from off the refrigerator and looking on the back. "Oh, look at this." He handed the picture to Sam. "Lloyd's Bar."

* * *

Later they all pulled up outside of Lloyd's Bar and got out of the car. They walked to a crossroads right outside the building, where Dean wandered off, having noticed something.

"Hey."

"Yeah?" Sam looked up from where he was looking.

"That's weird."

"What?"

"You think someone planted these?" Dean asked, indicating to the small yellow flowers.

"In the middle of all these weeds?"

"These are, uh... what do you call 'em?"

"Yarrow flowers?" Harry answered, coming over to where the brothers were standing.

"Yeah. Used for certain rituals, aren't they?" Dean asked, picking one of the flowers.

"Yeah, actually, summoning rituals." Sam answered, a tiny bit surprised that Dean knew that.

"So, two people become sudden successes about ten years ago, right around the time they were hanging out here at Lloyd's." Dean said, looking at the bar behind him.

"Not to repeat myself but it sounds like a demon." Harry said with a sigh.

"There just happens to be a crossroads. You think Harry was actually right?" Sam asked, looking around them.

"Let's find out." Dean said, they all walked to the middle o the crossroads. "This seem about dead centre to you?"

"Yep." Harry said looking around them. Dean grinned and walked back to the Impala to get a shovel then walked back to where Harry and Sam were standing, waiting.

"Let's see then." Dean said and started to dig.

A few minutes later, Dean was still digging when his shovel hit something and Dean stopped, "Yahtzee." He bent down to retrieve the object. He found a small metal box in the hole and when he opened it, he saw several objects, including small bones and a jar of dirt.

"I'd be willing to bet that's graveyard dirt. And a black cat bone." Sam said, looking at the objects inside the tin.

"That's serious spellwork. I mean, that's deep south hoodoo stuff."

"Used to summon a demon, like Harry said."

"Told you so."

"Not just summon one. Crossroads are where pacts are made. These people are actually making deals with the damn thing. You know, 'cause that always ends good."

"They're seeing dogs, all right. But not black dogs. They're seeing hellhounds – demonic pit bulls."

"Whoever this demon is, it's back and it's collecting. And that doctor lady, wherever she's running, she ain't running fast enough."

"And I was right. Can I just wallow in this moment?" Harry asked, grinning widely when both brothers shot him a withering stare.

"So, it's just like Robert Johnson legend, right? I mean, 'selling your soul at the crossroads' kind of deal?" Sam asked later when they had put the tin back.

"Yeah, except that wasn't a legend." Harry told them, noticing that Dean didn't look that surprised.

"Yeah, you know his music." Dean agreed, while Sam just looked confused. "You don't know Robert Johnson songs? Sam, there's occult references all over his lyrics. I mean 'Crossroad Blues'? 'Me and the Devil Blues'? 'Hellhound on my Trail'?" Sam still looked confused which made both Dean and Harry sigh and roll their eyes. "Story goes that he died choking on his own blood. He was hallucinating and muttering about big, evil dogs."

"He wasn't hallucinating." Harry added with a scrunch of his nose.

"And now it's happening all over again." Sam pointed out.

"Yeah."

"We've got to find out if anyone else struck any bargains around here."

"Great. So we've got to clean up these people's mess for them? I mean, they're not exactly squeaky clean. Nobody put a gun to their head and forced them to play 'Let's Make a Deal.'"

"So what, we should just leave them to die?" Sam asked, glaring at Harry when he nodded.

"Somebody goes over Niagara in a barrel, you gonna jump in and try to save them?"

"Dean..."

"Dean has a point. These people basically asked for what they got, including the Hellhounds." Harry cut in, ignoring the glare Sam sent him.

"You two..."

"Alright... fine. Rituals like this, you've gotta put your own photo into the mix, right?" Dean held up a man's photo that was in the box, interrupting whatever it was that Sam was going to say. "So, this guy probably summoned the thing. Let's see if anyone inside knows him... if he's still alive."

* * *

"What's this guys name, again?" Sam asked as they walked through the halls of an apartment building that had seen better days.

"George Darrow. Apparently quite the regular at Lloyd's. This house probably ain't up next on 'MTV Cribs', is it?" Dean said, making Sam chuckle and Harry snort with laughter.

"Yeah. So, whatever kind of deal he made..."

"It wasn't for money." Harry finished, looking at the halls around them.

"Ah, who knows? Maybe his place is full of babes in Princess Leia bikinis." Dean said, causing Sam to scoff and Harry to snort in amusement. "I'm just saying. This guys got one epic bill come due. I hope, at least he asked for something fun."

They reached the apartment of George Darrow where Sam noticed a line of black dust outside the door.

"Look at that?"

"What is that, pepper?"

"No it's—" Harry was interrupted by the door opening and George Darrow poked his head out and glared at them.

"Who the hell are you?"

"George Darrow?"

"I'm not buying anything." George said as he began to close the door on them.

"Whoa, whoa. Looks like you went for the wrong shaker there." George looked at them in confusion and Harry groaned and looked away. "Usually, when you want to keep something evil out, you go for the salt."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I'm talking about this." Dean held up a photo of George. "Tell me... You see that hellhound yet?"

"Look, we wanna help. Please, just five minutes." George looked at them then moved away, opening his door for them to enter.

They walked into an apartment that was full of paintings of various different subjects, but all seemingly dark and depressing.

"So, what _is _that stuff out front?" Sam asked when they were all inside the apartment.

"Goofer dust." Sam and Dean exchanged a look and Harry sighed and rolled his eyes. "Oh, you boys think you know somethin' about somethin; but now goofer dust?" He tossed a bag to Dean, who caught it and looked at it.

"Well, we know a little about a lot of things. Just enough to make us dangerous." Dean said as he examined the contents of the bag and then placed it in his pocket.

"What is it?" Sam asked.

"Hoodoo. My grandma taught me – keeps out demons."

"Demons we know." Dean said confidently, not noticing Harry roll his eyes.

"Well, then, keep it. Maybe it'll do you some good. Four minutes left."

"Mr Darrow, we know you're in trouble."

"Yeah, that you got yourself into." Dean muttered, making Harry snigger.

"But it's not hopeless, all right? There's gotta be something we can do." Sam said, glaring at Dean before turning his attention back to George.

"Listen... I get that you boys wanna help. But sometimes, a person makes their bed, and they've just got to lie down in it. I'm the one that called that demon in the first place."

Dean smirked and looked at George. "What'd you do it for?"

"I was weak. I mean, who don't wanna be great? Who don't want their life to mean something? I just ... I just never thought about the price."

"Was it worth it?"

"Hell no. 'Course, I asked for talent. Should've gone for fame. I'm still broke... and lonely. Just now, I've got this pile of paintings nobody wants." He gestured to the paintings littering the room, which Harry was now inspecting. "That wasn't the worst."

"Go on."

"The demon didn't leave. I never counted on that. After our deal was done, the damn thing stayed at Lloyds for a week, just chattin', makin' more deals. I tried to warn folks, but who's gonna listen to an old drunk?"

"How many are there?" Sam asked, concerned.

"This architect, a doctor lady – I kept up with them. They've been in the papers. Least they got famous."

"Who else George? Come on, think." Dean encouraged, glancing at the clock.

"One more. Nice guy, too. Hudson - Evan, I think. I don't know what he asked for. Don't matter now. He's done for."

"No. No, there's gotta be a way."

"You don't get it. I don't want a way."

"Look, you don't—"

"I called that thing! I brought it on myself! I brought it on them! I'm going to hell one was or another. All I want is to finish my last painting – a day or two, I'm done. I'm just trying to hold 'em off 'til then. Buy a little time. Okay, it's time you went. Go help somebody that wants help."

Sam gaped at him, "You can't just—"

"Get out! I've got work to do."

"You don't really wanna die."

"I don't? I'm tired." George told them with a sigh. Sam and Dean exchanged a look and then left with Harry following closely behind.

* * *

"Shouldn't you be invisible?" Dean asked as they approached the Hudson house. Harry sneered at him and then crossed his arms.

"Why should I? I only get told off for—borrowing things."

"You steal Harry, that's not borrowing." Sam pointed out softly.

"Yes it is. It's borrowing without the intent to return. Simple."

"Whatever. You should be invisible for this." Dean told Harry firmly, narrowing his eyes when Harry just stared back at him defiantly.

"No."

"Fine." Dean exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air in exasperation.

Sam grinned at his brothers back and stepped up to the door to stand next to Dean as he knocked, Harry standing closely behind them.

"Yes?" Evan Hudson asked, answering the door.

"Evan Hudson?"

"Yeah."

"You ever been to a bar called Lloyd's? It would've been about ten years ago." Evan slammed the door in their faces, getting a snigger from Harry. "Come on! We're not demons!" Dean yelled, knocking on the door again.

"Any other bright ideas?"

Dean shrugged then kicked the front door down. They watched as Evan rushed into his office and closed the door behind him. They followed him and Dean moved to kick down the office door, but Sam grabbed him to stop him and showed Dean that the door was unlocked. Dean shrugged and they entered the room, a highly amused Harry following behind.

"Evan?"

"Please! Don't hurt me."

"We're not gonna hurt you, all right? We're here to help you."

"We know all about the genius deal you made." Dean told him dryly.

"What? How?"

"Doesn't matter. All that matters is we're trying to stop it."

"How do I know you're not lying?"

"Well, you don't, but you're kind of running low on options there buddy." Dean said with a grin.

"Can you stop it?"

"Don't know. We'll try." Sam admitted with a shrug.

"I don't wanna die."

"Of course you don't. Not now."

"Dean, stop."

"What'd you ask for anyway, huh? Never need Viagra, bowl a perfect game, what?"

"My wife."

"Right, getting' the girl. Well that's worth a trip to hell for."

"Dean, _stop_."

"He has a point." Harry pointed out quietly, ignoring the glare Sam shot him.

"Don't start, Harry."

"No. They're right. I made the deal. Nobody twisted my arm. That woman, or whatever she was, at the bar – she said I could have anything I wanted. I thought she was nuts at first but... I don't know. I was... I was desperate."

"Desperate?"

"Julie was dying." Evan admitted after a brief pause.

"You did it to save her?" Dean asked softly.

"She had cancer, they had stopped treatment, they were moving her into hospice. They kept saying, 'Matter of days.' So yeah, I made he deal. And I'd do it again. I'd have died for her on the spot."

"Did you ever think about her in all this?" Dean asked him.

"I did this for her?"

"You sure about that? I think you did it for yourself... so you wouldn't have to live without her. But, guess what, she's gonna have to live without _you_ now. But what if she knew how much it cost? What if she knew it cost your soul? How do you think she'd feel?"

Sam stepped forward and pushed Dean back a few paces. "Okay, that's enough. Evan, sit tight, all right? We're gonna figure this out." Dean left and Sam and Harry followed him out into the hall. "You all right?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be? Hey, I've got an idea." Dean took the bag of goofer dust and tossed it towards Sam, who caught it. "You throw George's hoodoo at that hellhound. Keep it away from Evanas long as you can. I'm gonna go to the crossroads and summon the demon."

"Summon – Are you nuts?"

"Isn't that obvious?" Harry muttered with a roll of his eyes.

"Maybe a little." Dean said with a glare to Harry, who snorted. "But I can trap it. I can exorcise it, and I can buy us time to figure out something more permanent."

"Yeah, but how much time?"

"I don't know, a while. I mean, it's not easy for those suckers to claw their way back from hell and into sunshine."

"No. No way."

"You're not allowed to say no, Sammy. Not unless you've got a better idea."

"Dean, you can forget it, all right? I'm not letting you summon that demon."

"And why not?"

"Because I don't like where your head is at right now, that's why not."

"What are you walking about?'

"You know, you've been on edge ever since we found that crossroads, Dean, and I think I know why."

"We don't have time for this." Dean said, walking away from the confrontation.

"Dad." Dean stopped walking but didn't turn around. Harry nibbled his lower lip and glanced between the two brothers nervously, not entirely sure he wanted to get in the middle of this fight. "You think maybe Dad made one of these deals, huh? Hell, I've been thinking it. I'm sure you've been thinking it too."

After a pause, Dean turned around the face Sam and Harry, "It fits, doesn't it? I'm alive, Dad's dead. The yellow-eyed demon was involved. What if he did? What if he struck a deal? My life for his soul."

"I think I hear it! It's outside." Evan shouted from inside the office.

"Just keep him alive, okay?" Dean said, looking briefly at Harry as well as Sam. Harry nodded minutely and then turned to Sam, who was still staring at Dean.

"Dean?"

"Go!" Dean yelled before leaving the house. Harry and Sam stood there for a couple of second before coming to their senses and hurrying into the office, where Evan was standing in the middle, staring at the windows.

Sam hurried forward and began to place the goofer dust around the room, anywhere, where the Hellhounds would be able to enter the room. Finally he made a circle of the dust around Evan, who stared at Sam strangely.

"What is that stuff?"

"Goofer dust." Sam answered him.

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah, afraid so. Look, believe me, don't believe me. Whatever you want. Just – whatever you do, stay inside the circle, all right?" Sam asked, smiling when Evan nodded.

* * *

"That's the last of it." Sam said, throwing the dust bag to the side, on the floor, as he finished placing it across the doorways and windows.

Suddenly Evan flinched and looked around him, making Sam look at him sharply. "What?"

"He can hear the dogs. I can too. They're pissed."

"Don't you hear that?" Evan asked Sam frantically, still looking around him for the dogs.

"No, where?"

Evan pointed to the door shakily. "Right outside the door." The door began to rattle and Sam took a step inside the circle. The barking got louder and louder to Harry, making him think that Sam must be able to hear it.

"Just don't move, all right? Stay where you are." Sam said, getting a nod from Evan.

The barking still carried on, and the door looked ready to burst open. Sam and Evan looked around them, panicked when suddenly the barking stopped and the door stilled.

"Do you still hear it?" Sam asked, looking all around him.

"No. is it over?"

"Nope. Not yet." Harry said, still looking around the room warily.

"How do you know?"

"You're still alive."

"Harry!"

"What? It's true."

"It's unneeded." Suddenly there was growling coming from the vent and Evan and Harry both spun around the face it, just in time to see the grate to the vent come off. Suddenly a dog burst through the vent and into the room.

"It's here!"

"Oh shit. It's huge." Harry said before quickly walking over to the circle and stepping inside.

"Stay inside the circle!" Sam yelled, gripping Harry's arm tightly, making Harry wince slightly. The dogs began clawing at the floor around the circle, making deep claw marks appear in the floor. "Come on, Dean."

A strong wind began to blow inside the room, causing the circle of dust to break. "The circle's broken, come on!" Sam shouted, and they all ran out of the room and entered a closet at the end of the hall, shutting the door and leaning on it to keep the dogs out.

"Well, this is cosy."

"You're not helping Harry."

The door suddenly stopped shaking and the dogs stopped barking. Evan, Sam and Harry all exchanged a look and then looked at the door.

"Is it over?"

"Looks to be that way." Harry said, looking out the door for them and seeing nothing.

* * *

"Demons lie all the time, right? Maybe she was lying." Sam said when they were all sitting inside the impala. Dean had told them about the demon saying she was the one to take their fathers soul to hell.

"Come on. Is that really what you think? How could he do it?"

"He did it for you."

"Exactly. How am I supposed to live with that? You know, the thought of him,, wherever he is right now – he spent his whole life chasing that yellow-eyed son of a bitch. He should have gone out fighting. That was supposed to be his legacy, you know? Not bargaining with the damn thing. No this."

"How many people do you think Dad saved, total?"

"That's not the point, Sam."

"Evan Hudson is safe because of what Dad taught us. That's his legacy, Dean. Now, we're still here, man. So we've gotta keep going. For him. Hey, Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"When you were trapping that demon, you weren't... I mean, it was all a trick, right? You never considered actually making that deal, right?"

Dean gave a sideways glance out the window. Without saying anything, he changed the blues music to a rock song. Sam, understanding, looked shocked and on the verge of tears. Harry shifted forward and placed his hand on Sam's shoulder, squeezing softly.

**A/N – Another chapter. I'm having difficulty finding a good place for Sam and Dean to have a little talk about Harry. I've already wrote it, I just need to find a good place to put it. Any ideas?**


	10. Croatoan

Chapter Nine – Croatoan

"Come on Sam, wake up! Please, just tell me you're okay! Dean will be back soon and he's so gonna blame this on me!" Harry begged an unconscious Sam who was lying on the floor.

Dean walked in the room just as Harry was beginning to panic, holding a six pack of beer and looked at Harry in confusion.

"Sam?"

* * *

In the impala, where Harry was sitting in the back, watching Sam nervously, Sam was getting directions on his phone.

"Continue on OR-224 West." The tinny voice of the operator told them.

"There are only two towns in the U.S. named River Grove."

"How come you're so sure it's the one in Oregon?" Dean asked, looking over at Sam.

"There was a picture – Crater Lake."

"Okay, what else?"

"I saw a dark room, some people, and a guy tied to a chair."

"Kinky."

"Not helping."

"And I ventilated him?" Dean asked over the bickering of Sam and Harry.

"Yeah. You thought there was something inside him."

"A demon? Was he possessed?"

"I don't know."

"Well, all your weirdo visions are always tied to the Yellow-Eyed Demon somehow. So, was there any black smoke? Did we try to exorcise him?" Dean said glancing at Sam briefly before turning his attention back to the road.

"No. Nothing. You just plugged him, that's it."

"Well, I'm sure I had a good reason."

"I sure hope so." Sam muttered to himself.

"What does that mean?" Sam didn't answer and Dean glanced over at his brother, "Sam, I'm not gonna waste an innocent man."

"I never said you would!"

"Fine."

"Fine. Look, we don't know what it is. But whatever it is, that guy in the chair's a part of it. So, let's find him and see what's what."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Fine." Harry said, feeling left out, making both brother's turn to throw him a glare, which he just grinned at.

* * *

When they got to River Grove, Dean drove the car through the streets and then pulled up at a street corner. Looking around they spotted a sergeant putting a gun together oh his porch.

"He was there." Sam said, pointing at the sergeant. They got out of the car and approached him.

"Morning."

"Morning. Can I help you?"

"Yeah. " Dean said, taking out an ID from his pocket and showing it. "Uh, Billy Gibbons, Frank Beard, Eugene Biggs – US Marshalls."

"What's this about?"

"We're looking for someone." Dean said gruffly, putting his ID away, and ignoring the glaring coming from Harry.

"A young man, early twenties. He's have a thin scar right below his hairline." Sam told the man.

"What'd he do?"

"Well, nothing. We're actually looking for someone else, but we think this young man can help us."

"Yeah, he's not in any kind of trouble or anything. Well, not yet." Dean looking at the Sergeant and noticing a tattoo on the mans forearm. "I think maybe you know who he is, Master Sergeant. My dad was in the Corps. He was a corporal."

"What company?"

"Echo 2-1."

"So, can you help us?" Sam asked moving forward slightly.

After a pause the Sergeant answered. "Duane Tanner's got a scar like that. But I know him – good kid, keeps his nose clean."

"No, I'm sure he does. You know where he lives?" Dean asked the man.

"With his family, up on Aspen way."

"Thank you." Dean said and they moved to walk away. They crossed the street and Harry bumped into a telephone pole. He looked back and saw the word Croatoan engraved in the wood.

"Hey." He said pointing to the word. Sam and Dean looked back.

"Croatoan?" Dean asked, looking confused.

"Yeah." Sam said looking thoughtful and then noticing Dean's confused expression. "Roanoke? Lost colony? Ring a bell? Dean, did you pay any attention in history class?"

"Yeah. The shot heard 'round the world, how bills become laws..."

"That's not school! That's _Schoolhouse Rock_!" Sam exclaimed, ignoring the sniggering Harry.

"Whatever." Dean said with a shrug.

"Roanoke was one of the first English colonies in America, late 1500's." Harry told the two bickering brothers, getting a somewhat shocked expression from both brothers. "What? It's interesting because even Hank has no idea where they went."

"I do remember that. The only thing they left behind was a single word carved in a tree. 'Croatoan'"

"Wow, you do know stuff." Harry muttered, before smiling widely when Dean looked at him suspiciously.

"Yeah. And there were theories – Indian raid, disease. But nobody really knows what happened. They were all just gone. I mean, wiped out overnight."

"You don't think that's what's going on here."

"Whatever I saw in my head, it sure wasn't good. But what do you think could do that?" Sam asked as they carried on walking down the street.

"Well, like I said, all your weirdo visions are always tied to the yellow-eyed demon somehow, so..."

"We should get help. Bobby? Ellen, maybe?"

"Yeah that's a good idea." Dean took out his phone and looked at it. "I don't have signal."

Sam took his own phone out and looked at it. "I don't either."

They saw a payphone and walked over to it, Harry picked it up and listened, before shrugging his shoulder.

"Line's dead."

Dean frowned before looking around him. "I'll tell you one thing – if I was gonna massacre a town, that'd be my first step."

* * *

When they found the right house, they walked up to the door and knocked on it, waiting for someone to answer the door.

"Yeah?" A young man answered, looking at them suspiciously.

Dean held up his badge for the man to see. "Hi. We're looking for Duane Tanner. He lives here, right?"

"He's my brother."

"Can we talk to him?"

"He's not here right now."

"Do you know where he is?"

"Yeah, he went on a fishing trip up by Roseland Lake."

"Your parents home?"

"Yeah, they're inside."

"Jake, who is it?" Mr Tanner called from another room before coming to the door and looking at them shrewdly.

"Hi, U.S Marshalls sir. We're looking for your son, Duane." Dean said with a big grin.

"Why, he's not in trouble is he?"

"No, we just need to ask him a couple of routine questions that's all."

"When's he due back from his trip?" Sam asked.

"I'm not sure."

"Well maybe your wife knows."

"No, I don't know, she's not here right now." Mr Tanner told them, frowning at them.

"Your son said she was."

"Did I?"

"She's getting groceries. So, when Duane gets back, is there a number where he can get a hold of you?"

"Oh no, we'll just check in with you later." Dean said with a wide smile before leaving and the Tanners shut the door. "That was kind of creepy, right? Little too Stepford."

"Big time."

"I agree."

The three of them went around to the back of the house. Inside the Tanner house Jake and Mr Tanner went to another room. Mrs Tanner was tied up in a chair, bound and gagged.

"It's okay, Mom. It's not gonna hurt."

"Why do they always say that?" Harry whispered as they watched Mr Tanner grab a knife and Jake rolled up his sleeve. His father then took the knife and cut his forearm. The blood from the wound dripped onto Mrs Tanner, who already had a cut on her shoulder. Upon seeing this, Dean and Sam grabbed their guns and burst through the door, Harry following close behind.

Mr Tanner then began to scream at them, but Dean shot him several times. Jake broke through the window and ran away. Sam aimed his gun at Jake but didn't shoot. Harry watched all this, nibbling on his lower lip, then helping to untie Mrs Tanner.

"That went well."

* * *

They had managed to bundle Mrs Tanner into the Impala and drove to the medical clinic in the town. When they got there Sam got Mrs Tanner out of the car and walked into the building with her.

"Hello? Hello, we need a doctor here!" A nurse entered the room and frowned when she saw Mrs Tanner with Sam.

"Mrs Tanner, what happened?"

"She's been attacked."

"Dr Lee!" The nurse shouted, Dr Lee soon coming into the room.

"Bring her in."

"Okay." He and the nurse then helped Mrs Tanner into the doctor's office. Dean and Harry entered then with Mr Tanners body over Dean's shoulder.

"Hey."

"Is that...?"

"Mr Tanner." Dean answered, smiling grimly.

"Was he attacked too?"

"Uh, no, actually he did the attacking and then he got himself shot."

"Shot?"

"Yeah."

"And who are you?"

"U.S Marshall. I'd show you my badge, but, uh..." Dean gestured to the body over his shoulder, which made Harry grin, then try to hide it.

"Oh, sorry. Bring him back here" The three of them walked into her office, where Mrs Tanner was sitting on the examination table.

"Wait, you said Jake _helped_ him? Your son, Jake?"

Mrs Tanner nodded, "They beat me... tied me up."

"I don't believe it." The nurse said, shaking her head.

"Pam." Dr Lee gestured for her to be quiet. "Beverly, do you have any idea why they could act this way? Any history of chemical dependency?"

"No, of course not." She began to cry, "I don't know why. One minute they were my husband and my son. And the next... they had the devil in them."

Dean leant closer to Sam and Harry. "We've gotta talk." Sam nodded and they all walked out into the waiting room. "These guys are whacked out of their gourds."

"What do you think? Multiple demons? Mass possession?"

"It's not possession." Harry said with a frown, nibbling on his lower lip.

"If it is a possession, there cold be more. God knows how many. It could be like a friggin' Shriner Convention." Dean muttered, ignoring Harry's mutter and frowning.

"Great."

"'Course, that's one way to wipe out a town. You take it from the inside."

"I don't know, man. We didn't see any of the demon smoke with Tanner, or any of the usual signs. I think Harry is right." Sam said, making Harry smile widely and Dean to roll his eyes.

"Thank you."

"Well, whatever. I mean, something turned him into a monster. And you know, if you would have taken out the other one, there'd be one less to worry about." Dean said, frowning at Sam.

"I'm sorry all right? I hesitated, Dean, it was a kid."

"No. It was an It. Not the best time for a bleeding heart, Sam."

"Leave him alone, Dean." Harry said, scowling at Dean.

"How's the patient?" Sam asked, making Harry spin around and see Dr Lee standing behind them.

"Terrible. What the hell happened out there?"

"We don't know." Dean answered honestly.

"Yeah? Well you just killed my next-door neighbour."

"We didn't have a choice."

"Maybe so, but we need the county sheriff. I need the coroner."

"Phones are down." Sam told her.

"I know, I tried. Tell me you've got a police radio in the car."

"Yeah, we do. But it crapped out just like everything else." Sam said. Dr Lee sighed and massaged her temples.

"I don't understand what is happening."

"How far is it to the next town?" Dean asked

"It's about forty miles down to Sidewinder." Dr Lee told them

"All right, I'm gonna go down there and see if I can find some help. My partners will stick around – keep you guys safe."

"Safe from what?" Dr Lee asked.

"We'll get back to you on that." Dean said and then left, Dr Lee then turned her attention to Sam and Harry.

* * *

Not long after Dean had left, Sam, Harry and Dr Lee were in Dr Lee's office. Sam was looking at Mr Tanners body on the autopsy table whilst Dr Lee was looking at something under the microscope.

"Huh."

"What?"

"His lymphocyte percentage is pretty high. His body was fighting off a viral infection."

"Really? What kind of virus?" Sam asked, turning round to look at Dr Lee.

"Can't say for sure."

"Do you think an infection could have made him act like that?"

"None, that I've ever heard of. I mean, some can cause dementia, but not that kind of violence. And besides, I've never heard of one that did this to the blood."

"Did what?"

"There's this weird residue. If I didn't know better.. I'd say it was sulphur."

"Sulphur." Sam and Harry asked at the same time, looking equally stunned.

* * *

When they got Beverly back into Dr Lee's office, they tried to explain to her what they thought might have been wrong with her husband and son.

"I don't understand. Are you saying my husband and Jake had a disease?"

"That's what we're trying to find out. Now during the attack, do you remember... did you have nay direct contact with their blood?"

"Oh my God. You don't think I've got this virus do you?"

"Beverly, I don't know what to think. But with your permission, we'll take a blood sample."

"Beverly paused for a moment then smiled at Dr Lee, reaching out her hand. Suddenly, Beverly charged. She jumped off the table and began to scream. She hit Dr Lee to the floor and pushed Sam into Harry and a cabinet and then ran at him with a metal instrument. Before she could stab him, he knocked her out with an oxygen tank.

"What if we all have it? What if we all go crazy?" The nurse, Pamela asked nervously.

"We've gotta stay calm. All we can do is wait. The Marshall's bringing help."

"No, I can't. I've gotta go."

"Pam—"

"No, you don't understand. My boyfriends out there. I've gotta make sure he's okay." Pam said, panicking and wringing her hands.

Sam followed her to the door. "Wait, wait. Please. I know you're upset, all right? But it's safer if you stay here for now. Help is coming." They heard the rumble of the Impala outside and Sam smiled thinly. "There they are."

"Sammy, open up!" Sam opened the door and Dean walked in with the Sergeant following close behind.

"Did you guys get to a phone?"

"Roadblock. I'm gonna have a word. Doc's inside." Dean said to the Sergeant, who nodded and then left to speak with the doctor.

"What's going on out there, Dean?"

"Man, I don't know. I feel like Chuck Heston in _The Omega Man_. Sarge was the only sane person I could find. What are we dealing with, do you know?"

"Yeah. Doc thinks it's a virus." Harry said, still nibbling on his lower lip.

"I think she's right." Sam said, looking at Harry and Dean.

"Really?"

"Yeah. And I think the infected are trying to infect others with blood-to-blood contact. Oh, but it gets better. The virus leaves traces of sulfur in the blood."

"A demonic virus?"

"Yeah, more like demonic germ warfare. At least that explains why I've been having visions."

"It's like a biblical plague." Harry said thoughtfully.

"Yeah. You don't know how right you are, Harry. I've been pouring through Dad's journal. I found something about the Roanoke colony."

"And?"

"Dad always had a theory about Croatoan. He thought it was a demon's name – sometimes known as Dever or sometimes Reshef. A demon of plague and pestilence."

"Well, that's terrific. Why here? Why now?" Dean asked, frowning.

"I have no idea. But Dean... Who knows how far this thing can spread? We've gotta get out of here, we've gotta warn people."

"They've got one! In here!" The Sergeant yelled from the doctor's office. The boys looked at each other and then walked into the office.

"What do you mean?" Dean asked, looking at the woman on the floor.

"The wife. She's infected." Harry told him, looking at them from behind Sam.

"We've gotta take care of this. We can't just leave her in there. My neighbours – they were strong. The longer we wit, the stronger she'll get." The sergeant said. Dean gets out his gun and the Sergeant stood outside the door to the utility room, where they were keeping Mrs Tanner, aiming with his gun.

"You're gonna kill Beverly Tanner?" Pam asked, shocked.

"Doctor, could there be any treatment? Some kind of cure for this?" Sam asked, looking at Dr Lee.

"Can you cure it?" Dean asked.

"For God's sake, I don't even know what 'it' is!" Dr Lee exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air.

"I told you, it's a matter of time before she breaks through." The Sergeant said from his place at the door.

"Just leave her there! You can't shoot her like an animal!" Pam exclaimed, looking between the Sergeant and Dean.

"Sam." Dean walked with Sam to the Utility Room door. The Sergeant nodded and they entered the room. Beverly was crouched in a corner of the room, sitting on the floor.

"Mark, what are you doing? Mark, it's them! They locked me in here. They tried to kill me! They're infected, not me! Please, Mark! You've known me all your life! Please!" Beverly begged the Sergeant, Mark. Mark looked at her and didn't shoot.

"You're sure she's one of them?" Dean asked Sam.

"Yeah." Without hesitating Dean shot Beverly.

* * *

Mark looked out of the window, noticing that it was now night. Only a few people were on the street and they were all standing in one area. Meanwhile, Dean, Sam and Harry were getting their weapons ready. They heard a scream from the doctor's office. They rush in and see that Pamela has spilled a vial of blood.

"Oh, God! Is there any on me? Am I okay?"

"You're clean, you're okay." Dr Lee reassured her.

"Why are we staying here? Please, Let's just go!"

"No, we can't, 'cause those things are everywhere."

"Oh God."

"Shh."

Sam turned to Dean. "She's right about one thing. We can't stay here. We've gotta get out of here – get to the Roadhouse, somewhere. Let people know what's coming."

"Yeah, that's a good point. _Night of the Living Dead_ didn't exactly end pretty." Dean said with a grimace. Harry looked between them and then looked at the Sergeant as he came over to them.

"I'm not sure we've got a choice. Lot's of folks up here are good with rifles. Even with all your hard work, we're easy targets. So, unless you've got some explosives..."

Harry looked around them and noticed the bottles on a shelf. "We could make some." He went to the shelf and picked up a bottle of potassium chlorate. They suddenly hear someone outside.

"Hey, let me in! Let me in, please!" They walked into the waiting room.

"It's Duane Tanner!" Mark said, before opening the door and letting Duane inside.

"Oh thank God."

"Duane, you okay?"

Dean turned to Sam, questioningly. "That's the guy that I, uh... " He made a gesture as if he was shooting someone.

"Yeah."

"Who else is in here?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Easy there, chief. Hey, Doc, give Duane a good once-over, would you?" They all walk into the doctors office.

"Pam?" Dr Lee asked

"Who are you?" Duane asked, looking at Dean.

"Never mind who I am. Doc?"

"Yeah, okay." Pam entered the room.

"Duane, where you been?" Mark asked.

"I was on a fishing trip up by Roseland. I came back this afternoon. I saw Roger McGill being dragged out of his house by people we know. They started cutting him with knives! I ran, I've been hiding in the woods ever since. Has anybody seen my mom and dad?"

Dean turned to Sam and Harry. "Awkward."

Dr Lee noticed a cut on Duanes leg. "You're bleeding"

"Where'd you get that?" Harry asked, cutting Dean off.

"I was running. I must have tripped."

Dean turned to Mark, "Tie him up. There's rope in there."

"Wait!" Duane said standing up.

"Sit down!" Dean yelled, pointing his gun at Duane.

"Sorry, Duane, he's right. We've gotta be careful."

"Careful? About what?"

"Did they bleed on you?" Harry asked, glaring at Dean, who put his gun down.

"No, what the hell! No!" Mark grabbed rope from his bag.

"Doc, anyway to know for sure? Any tests?" Sam asked

"I've studied Beverly's blood work backwards and forwards."

"My mom?"

"It took three hours for the virus to incubate. Sulphur didn't appear in the blood until then, so... no, there'd be no way of knowing. Not until after Duane ... turns."

"Dean, I've gotta talk to you. Now."

"Sit in that chair, man." Mark said, and ushered Duane into the chair. Dean, Sam and Harry went into a separate room to talk.

"This is my vision, Dean. It's happening."

"Yeah, I figured."

"You can't kill him, all right? Not yet. We don't know if he's infected or not."

"So we just keep Dean and his trigger happy finger away from him for the next couple of hours." Harry said cheerfully, getting a glare from both brothers.

"I think we're pretty damn sure he's infected. Guy shows up out of nowhere, he's got a cut on his leg, his whole family's infected."

"All right, then we should keep him tied up and we should wait and see." Sam said.

"I agree with Sam."

"Oh you would. And for what? For him to hulk out? Infect somebody else? No thanks, can't take that chance." Dean goes to leave but Sam stops him. "Look, man, I'm not happy about this, okay? But it's a tough job and you know that."

"It's supposed to be tough, Dean! We're supposed to struggle with this, that's the whole point!"

"What does that buy us?"

"A clear conscience, for one."

"It's too late for that."

"What the hell has happened to you?"

"What?"

"You might kill an innocent man and you don't even care! You don't act like yourself anymore, Dean! Hell, you know what? You're acting like one of those things out there!"

"Mm-hmm" Dean pushed Sam out of the way and left the room, locking the door behind him.

"Hey! Open the damn door. Dean! Don't do it, Dean! Don't!" They watched through the window in the door as Dean loaded his gun and then entered the room where Duane was tied up.

"So we just have to wait until Dean does the deed, huh?"

"Looks like it." Sam said with a sigh, leaning against a table.

"So what can we do?"

"Pray Dean doesn't kill Duane?" Sam asked, looking up to the ceiling.

"Hmm. Sounds like a plan."

* * *

Later Dean came back to the room with an admission that he hadn't shot Duane, and let Harry and Sam out, where they finally decided to take up Harry's offer and started to make explosives with the items in Dr Lee's office.

"It's been over four hours. Duane's blood is still clean. I don't think he's infected. I'd like to untie him, if that's all right." Dr Lee asked walking into the room.

Sam and Dean exchanged a look before Sam nodded. "Sure, yeah." She left and Sam turned to Dean. "You know I'm gonna ask you why."

"Yeah, I know."

"So why? Why didn't you do it?"

"We need more alcohol." Dean said, Sam nodded and left with a sigh. "Don't even think of asking."

"I wasn't!" Harry said, putting his hands up in the air. They suddenly heard a crash coming from the room Sam went into.

They ran to the door and tried to open it, but it was locked. Mark came over to them, having heard the crash and he and Dean kicked the door open. Inside they saw Pamela leaning over Sam, bleeding on him. Dean raised his gun and shot Pamela several times in the chest, watching as she fell away from Sam. Harry then pushed past Dean and ran forwards, helping Sam sit up.

"She bled on him. He's got he virus." Mark pointed out, Dean and Harry looked at Sam, shocked.

* * *

In Dr Lee's office Sam was sitting on the examination table, holding a bandage to his chest whilst Harry was standing in the corner nibbling his bottom lip and Dean was pacing in front of Sam.

"Doctor, check his wound again, would you? Doctor!" Dean exclaimed when she didn't move.

"What does she need to examine it for? You saw what happened." Mark said with a sneer, and Dean glared at him before looking back at the doctor expectantly.

"Did her blood actually enter your wound?" Dr Lee asked, looking at Sam nervously.

"Come on, of course it did!"

"We don't know what for sure!"

"Dean's right, we can't just shoot him without knowing!" Harry spoke up getting a weak smile from Sam.

"We can't take a chance!"

"You know what we have to do."

"Nobody is shooting my brother."

"He's not gonna be your brother much longer. You said it yourself." Duane said.

"Nobody's shooting anybody."

"You were gonna shoot _me_!"

"You will shut your pie hole, I still might!"

"Dean, they'e right. I'm infected. Just give me the gun and I'll do it myself."

"Forget it."

"Dean, I'm not gonna become one of those things."

"Sam, we've still got some time –"

"Time for what? Look, I understand he's your brother, and I'm sorry. I am." Mark took out his gun. "But I've gotta take care of this."

"I'm gonna say this one time. You make a move on him you'll be dead before you hit the ground, you understand me? Do I make myself clear?"!

"Dean!"

"Then what are we supposed to do?" Mark asked, Dean paused for a while before he tossed his car keys to the Sergeant.

"Get the hell outta here, that's what. Take my car. You've got the explosives, there's an arsenal in there, you two go with them. You've got enough firepower to handle anything now."

"What about you?"

"Dean, no. No. Go with them. This is your only chance." Sam pleaded, looking at Dean with wide, sad brown eyes, which Dean just ignored with practiced ease.

"No, you're not gonna get rid of me that easy."

"Me either." Harry spoke up, making everyone in the room look at him in shock, having forgotten he was there.

"Harry! Go with them."

"I don't really have much to fear." Harry deadpanned, not taking his gaze away from Sam.

"He's right man. Come with us!" Dean and Harry share a look and then shake their heads. "Okay, it's your funeral."

"I'm sorry. Thanks for everything Marshalls."

"Oh, actually, we're not really Marshalls." Dean admitted with a shrug.

"Uh, oh." Dr Lee said before leaving the three men behind.

"Harry, can I talk to Dean alone for a minute please?" Sam asked a few minutes after the last person had left the room and had closed the door behind them.

"Sure. Call me if you need me." Harry shrugged with a carefree smile and then walked out the room too.

"I wish we had a deck of cards of a foosball table or something." Dean said with a chuckle once Harry had left the room.

"Dean, don't do this. Just get the hell out of here."

"No way!"

"Give me my gun... and leave with Harry."

"For the last time, Sam – no." Dean said. Sam slammed his arm down on the table in frustration, tears beginning to to stream down his face.

"This is the dumbest thing you've ever done."

"I don't know about that. Remember that waitress in Tampa." Dean shivered in thought.

"Dean, I'm sick, it's over for me. It doesn't have to be for you."

"No?"

"No, you can keep going."

"Who says I want to?"

"What?"

Dean sat down and sighed. "I'm tired, Sam. I'm tired of this job, this life. This weight on my shoulders, man, I'm tired of it."

"So what? So, you're just gonna give up? I mean, you're just gonna lay down and die? Look Dean, I know stuff with Dad—"

"You're wrong. It's not about that. I mean, part of it is, sure, but—"

"What is it about?"

"You're the last thing I have."

"Don't be stupid, Dean. You have Harry."

"I have Harry?" Dean asked, looking at Sam in shock and confusion.

"Yeah. He's head over heels with you."

"With me?" Dean deadpanned, looking at Sam as though he was crazy.

"Yeah, I'll admit to being a bit jealous of the two of you. I know how you feel."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, what about Harry am I feeling exactly?"

"Well it's obvious you two like each other, the way you bicker is like a married couple."

"We bicker because we generally don't like one another. In fact, the only reason we are not killing one another is because of you."

"Me?"

"Yeah. You. So whatever it is you've got going on in your head, you can stop right now."

"So there's nothing going on between you and Harry?"

"Nope. So what did you want to tell me?"

"I think—I don't know, but, well—I sort of—"

"Spit it out dude."

"I like Harry."

"I know."

"You—what?"

"I know. Everyone bar you and Harry knows."

"So you don't mind."

"Ah. Now there's the problem. He's not good enough for you. There's a reason I made him leave." Dean shouted eventually, making Sam stop in his pacing and face Dean, face pale with anger.

"_You_ made him leave?"

"Er... Yeah."

"Why? Why would you do that?"

"He liked you Sammy! It was for your own good!"

"My own good? Let me make up the choices!" Sam yelled at him, throwing his arms in the air in frustrated anger.

"He's a reaper! He's not right for you!"

"How would you know? He might be perfect for me! You know, all this time he's been protecting you from the wrath of both me and Hank."

"What?"

"You heard me. He refused to tell us why he left. All for you."

"I never asked him to!"

"No, but he did anyway. I can't believe you, Dean. Why would you do that?"

"I just thought I was saving you."

"Saving me? And the funny thing is, Dean. He came back to save you."

"He didn't though, did he?"

"He never got the chance. You can't blame Dad's death on him."

"I don't."

Sam was saved from answering when Dr Lee and Harry walked into the room. "You'd better come and see this."

"The six of them left in the clinic went outside, only to see that the entire town was deserted.

"There's no one. Not anywhere. They've all just vanished."

* * *

Later in Dr Lee's office, Dr Lee was examining Sam's blood underneath a microscope to check for any infection.

"Well, it's been five hours and your blood is clean. I don't understand it, but I think you dodged a bullet."

"But I was exposed. How could I not be infected?"

"I don't know. But you're just not." She looked over to a second microscope. "I mean, when you compare it with the Tanner samples – what the hell?"

"What?"

"Their blood. There's not trace of the virus. No sulfur, nothing."

* * *

The next morning, they all decided to leave and find the next town over. Sam and Dean helped Duane and Mark pack up their things into their truck.

"Doctor, Sarge and I are getting the hell out of here, heading south. You should come." Duane said, shoving a bag on the back of the truck.

"I've gotta get over to Sidewinder. Get the authorities up here – if they'll believe me. Take care." The Sergeant waved to them all before they drove away.

"What about him?" Dean asked, nodding towards Sam.

"He's gonna be fine. No signs of infection." Dr Lee said with a smile at Sam before she went back inside. Dean looked at Sam expectantly.

"Hey man, don't look at me. I've no clue."

"I swear, I'm gonna lose sleep over this one. I mean, why here? Why now? Where the hell did everybody go? It's not like they just freakin' melted."

"Why was I immune?"

"Yeah, you know what, that's a good question. You know, I'm already starting to feel like this is one that got away." Dean said, getting into the Impala, followed by Sam and Harry.

"I never thought I'd be around for another Croatoan." Harry admitted, once they pulled away.

"I know what you mean." Dean agreed, Sam nodded his head in agreement.

"Well, let's get the hell out of dodge." Harry muttered, glancing out of the window with a look of distaste.

"I agree with you there dude."

"For once." Sam muttered.

**A/N – So Sam had admitted his feelings for Harry, yay. Well not to Harry yet, but you know what I mean. There wasn't actually a lot of Harry in this one. He seemed to want to hide in the background a bit. Oh well. Please tell me what you think! Thanking you and thank you to everyone who helped me with my dilemma, especially pskat, who gave me the idea for this! **


	11. Hunted

Chapter Ten – Hunted

Dean and Sam stood near a fence, facing a river, Harry stood next to the car, trying to listen in on what was being said without looking too obvious.

"Before Dad died... he told me something. Something about you." Dean said, leaning against a tree.

"What? Dean, what did he tell you?"

"He said that he... he wanted me to watch out for you. Take care of you."

"He told you that a million times," Sam said with a frown.

"No, this time was different. He said that I had to... save you." Dean told him. Harry leant forward slightly to hear better.

"Save me from what?"

"He just said that I had to save you. Nothing else mattered. And if I couldn't I'd..."

"You'd what, Dean?"

"I'd have to kill you." Sam looked confused, then spun round to face Harry when he fell off the bonnet of the Impala. Dean frowned at him and then turned back to Sam. "He said I might have to kill you, Sammy."

"Kill me?" Sam's eyes welled up as he stared at his brother in shock. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know."

"I mean, he must've had some kind of reason for saying it, right? Did he know the demon's plans for me? Am I supposed to go dark-side or something? What else did he say, Dean?"

"Nothing. That's it, I swear."

"How could you not have told me this?"

"Because he was dead and he begged me not to."

"Who cares? Take some responsibility for yourself, Dean! You had no right to keep this from me!"

"You think I wanted this? Huh? I wish to god he'd never opened his mouth! I wouldn't have to walk around with this screaming in my head all day!"

After a long pause Sam shifted and spoke to Dean. "We've just gotta figure about what's going on then, what the hell all this means."

"We do? I've been thinking about this, I think we should just lay low, you know? At least for a while. It'd be safer. And that way, I could make sure..."

"What? That I don't turn evil? That I don't turn into some kind of killer."

"I never said that."

"Jeez, if you're not careful, you _will _have to waste me one day, Dean."

"I never said that! Damn it Sam, this whole thing is spinning out of control! You're immune to some weirdo demon virus, and I don't even know what the hell anymore. And you're pissed at me, and I get it. That's fine, I deserve it. But we lay low until we figure out our next move, okay?"

"Forget it."

"Sam, please man," Dean grabbed Sam's shoulder. "Hey, please. Just give me some time. Give me some time to think, okay, I'm begging you here. Please... please." Sam nodded.

* * *

Later that night, Sam waited until Dean was asleep before he got out of bed. Harry watched him grab a crowbar and then walk out the room, Harry following behind him.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked, making Sam jump and spin around to face him.

"Jesus, Harry." Sam exclaimed, clutching his chest.

"What are you doing?"

"Dean wants time alone, so that's what I'm giving him."

"Well you're not going alone."

"You have to stay with Dean. Keep him out of trouble."

"No, I have to go with you, keep you out of trouble."

"Harry..."

"Sam, don't let me go and I'll yell for Dean right now, because you know I will." Harry warned him with a scowl, getting one from Sam in return.

"Fine." Sam said with a sigh, before he used the crowbar to open the door of the car and climbed in, followed by Harry.

* * *

They went to the Roadhouse, where Sam parked the car and just stared at it for a moment before he sighed and got out the car, followed by Harry and entered the Roadhouse, approaching Ellen, who was at the bar.

"Sam, Harry."

"Hey Ellen, You don't seem that surprised to see me."

"You're brother's been calling, worried sick, looking for you."

"Told you it was a bad idea." Harry muttered, sighing softly when Sam just ignored him.

"Yeah. Figured he might."

"What's going on between you two?"

After a pause where Harry rolled his eyes, Sam smiled. "So, um... how's Jo?"

"Well, I don't really know."

"What do you mean?"

"I haven't seen her in weeks. She sends a postcard now and again."

"Well, what happened?"

"Well, after she worked that job with you boys, she just decided she wanted to keep on hunting. I said 'Not under my roof' and she said 'fine.'"

"So, I'm probably the last person you want to see right now." Sam said, making Ellen laugh.

"Aw, don't get me wrong, I wish I could blame the hell out of you boys. It'd be easier. Truth is, it's not your fault. Sam... none of it is. I want you to know that I forgave you daddy a long time ago for what happened to my Bill. I just don't think he ever forgave himself."

"What _did_ happen?"

Ellen shook her head. "Um, so... why did you come here, sweetie?"

"I need help."

"Oh, finally admitting it." Harry groaned, leaning forward and banging his head on the bar.

* * *

A few minutes later, Ash joined them by the bar, smiling briefly at Harry and then turning his attention to Sam. "What am I looking for, Sam?"

"Other people. Other psychics, like me – as many as possible, and I need a nationwide search."

"But... I thought there was no way to track them all down. Not all of them had nursery fires like you did." Ellen said

"Well, no. But some had to. Start there."

* * *

Later, Ash rejoined them with a piece of paper in his hands.

"Done and done." Ash told them, grabbing a stool next to Harry.

"That was fast."

"Well, apparently, that's my job. Make the monkey dance at the keyboard."

"You just called yourself a monkey." Harry pointed out lightly, tapping out a tune on the bar.

"No I didn't."

"Yes. You did."

"Didn't"

"Did." Harry sing-songed.

"Just tell us what you got, Ash." Ellen interrupted.

"Four folks. Fit the profile, nationwide – born in '83, mother died in a nursery fire, the whole she-bang."

"Four? That's it?"

Ash read the paper in his hands, pulling it away when Harry tried to read it over his shoulder. "Sam Winchester, Lawrence, Kansas. Max Miller from Saginaw, Michigan. Andrew Gallagher from Guthrie, Oklahoma. And uh... another name – Scott Carey."

"You got an address?"

"Kind of – the Arbor Hills Cemetary in Lafayette, Indiana. Plot 486."

"So he's dead?"

"Killed about a month ago."

"Killed how?"

"Stabbed. Parking lot. The fuzz don't have much, no suspects."

"All right. Thank you." Sam said, hopping off his stool, soon followed by Harry and making their way to the exit.

"Where are you going?" Ellen asked.

"Indiana."

"Sam? I've gotta call Dean. I've gotta let him know where you are."

"Ellen, I'm trying to find answers about who I am. And my brother means well, but he can't protect me from that. Please." Ellen sighed and Sam and Harry left the bar.

* * *

"You said you went to high school with Scott?" Mr Carey, Scott's father asked them once they were inside the house.

"Yes, sir, we did. We just heard about what happened. I'm so sorry."

"Yes, sorry to hear about Scott's death." Harry added, looking suitably sad.

"Scotty was a good boy. He changed a lot since you knew him."

"What do you mean?"

"It started about a year ago with these headaches. Then he got depressed, paranoid, nightmares."

"Nightmares? Did he ever talk to you about his nightmares? What he saw?"

"No, no. He closed up on me. I tried to get him help, but nothing took. He'd just lock himself in his room for days."

"You think maybe we could see his room?"

* * *

Sam and Harry entered Scott's room and began to search for clues. Sam saw several pill bottles on Scott's nightstand, prescribed by Dr Waxler. He put one of the bottles in his coat pocket

"What are we searching for?"

"Clues about why he died. Something to go by." Sam said, going to the closet and pushing aside the clothes. On the wall behind the clothes there were tons of pictures of people with yellow eyes. Sam and Harry just stared in shock.

* * *

Sam was about to follow Harry inside the motel room when he heard someone behind him. He grabbed the person and pushed them against the door.

"Who are you?" Sam asked, pinning a young girl to the wall, Harry coming back outside to see what was going on.

"Please... You're in danger."

* * *

In the motel room Sam motioned for the girl to sit on one of the beds, while Harry glared at her from his seat on the table

"Okay, look, I know how all this sounds, but I am not insane and I am not on drugs, okay? I am normal. This is way off the map for me."

"All right, just calm down, okay? What's your name?"

"Ava."

"Ava?"

"Ava Wilson."

"Ava, I'm Sam Winchester and this is Harry Potter, all right?" Ava nodded and Sam smiled warmly, making Harry huff. "Now, you were telling me about these dreams of yours."

Ava stood up and started to pace. "Uh, yeah, okay. About a year ago, I started having these headaches and nightmares, I guess. And I really didn't think much of it until I had this one dream where I saw this guy get stabbed in a parking lot!"

"When was this?"

"Uh, about a month ago." She reached into her purse and pulled out a newspaper clipping. "But anyway, a couple of days later, I found this." She handed the clipping to Sam, who showed it to Harry, it was a newspaper clipping of Scott Carey's obituary. "I saw this guy die! Days before it happened! I don't know why, I don't know, it's jus some reason... my dreams are coming true. And last night... I had another one."

"Sounds like you, Sam." Harry commented to Sam quietly, looking at Ava, who was clearly agitated.

"Okay."

"About you. I saw you die."

"What?" Harry asked, jumping up from his seat and glancing between the two.

"How did you find me?"

"You had motel stationary, and I google'd the motel and it was real. So I just thought I should warn you."

"I don't believe this."

"Oh, of course you don't. You think I'm a total nutjob."

"Well, there is that..." Harry said, looking at the ceiling and thus missing the glare Sam sent him.

"Wait, no, no. I mean... you must be one of us."

"Sorry, one of who?"

"One of the psychics, like me. Look, Ava , I have visions too, all right? So we're connected."

Ava laughed, making Sam and Harry stare at her. "Okay, so... You're nuts. That's great."

"So you expect us to believe you, but not the other way round, that's seems fair." Harry muttered, holding up his hands when Sam glared at him to shut up.

"Okay, look, did your mother happen to die in a house fire?"

"No, my mother lives in Palm Beach."

"So, you don't fit the pattern either."

"Yay."

* * *

"Why can't you just leave town? Please? Before you blow up?"

"I agree."

"No, I can't."

"Oh God. Why not?"

"I second that 'why not?'" Harry said, looking at Sam as though he were insane.

"Because there's something going on here, Ava – with you, with me. There are others like us out there. And we're all a part of something. And I've gotta figure out what."

"Okay, you know what? Screw you buddy. 'Cause I'm a secretary from Peoria and I'm not part of anything, okay? Do you see this? I am getting married in eight weeks. I am supposed to be at home addressing invitations, which I am way behind on, by the way. But instead, I drove out here to save you weirdo ass. But if you just wanna stay here and die, fine. Me? I'm due back on planet Earth."

"Don't you wanna know why this is happening? I mean, don't these visions scare the hell out of you? 'Cause if you walk out that door right now... you might never know the truth." Sam told her, watching as she turned around the face them again. "We need your help."

* * *

In Dr Waxler's office, the doctor is sitting across from Ava. "So Ms Wilson, you're new in town?"

Ava nodded. "That's right."

"And what made you decide to seek out therapy?

"I have no idea."

"No?"

"No, I mean, I'm feeling really... super... _anxious_ right now."

"Okay. Anything else?" Dr Waxler said, looking at Ava softly.

Ava looked up and noticed Sam and Harry walking across the ledge outside the window. "Holy Crap!"

"What?" Waxler turned around but Harry and Sam had gone.

"Uh... I just remembered when I was a kid, I swallowed. Like, eight things of Pop Rocks and then drank a whole can of coke, you don't think that counts as a suicide attempt, do you?"

* * *

Back at the motel room, Harry was sitting on the table once again watching Sam and Ava, who was pacing the room and wringing her hands.

"You okay?'

"Am _I _okay?"

"Yeah."

"I just helped you steal some dead guys confidential psych files." She smiled at them. "I'm awesome!" Sam laughed.

A few minutes later, they were listening to the tape of Scott's last therapy session.

_"It started a little over a year ago – migraines, at first. Then I found... I could do stuff." Scott said slowly._

"_What do you mean, 'do stuff'?"_

"_I have this ability. When I touch something I can electrocute it if I want."_

Sam, Harry and Ava exchanged a glance and then went back to listening to the tape.

_"What else does the yellow-eyed man say?"_

"_He has plans for me. He says there's a war coming. And people like me – we're gonna be the soldiers. Everything's about to change."_

"He's not talking about _us, _right?"

"Yeah, I think he is."

"Well... but... how can we turn into that?"

"I don't – " Suddenly, a bullet shattered the glass of the window. Sam and Ava crouched on the floor, whilst Harry jumped off the table and moved over to Sam. "Get down!"

"Oh my God! Sam!"

* * *

"Wait, I don't understand. Shouldn't we be talking to the cops?"

"They wouldn't do us much good." Harry told her, watching Sam examine the bullets on the floor.

"These are .223 caliber, subsonic rounds. The guy must have put a suppressor on the rifle."

"Dude! Who _are_ you?"

"Oh, I just... I just watch a lot of _TJ Hooker_." Sam said, taking out his phone."

"Who are you calling?"

"My brother. I think we definitely need help."

"Hello?"

"Dean."

"Sam, I've been looking for you."

"Yeah. Look, I'm in Indiana – Lafayette."

"I know."

"You do?"

"Yeah, I talked to Ellen. Just got here myself. It's a real funky town. You ditched me Sammy."

"Yeah, I'm sorry. Look, right now, there's someone after me."

"What? Who?"

"I don't know, that's what we need to find out. Where are you?"

"I'm staying at 5637 Monroe Street. Why don't you meet me here?"

"Yeah sure." Sam hung up the phone and shared a look with Harry.

"What is it?"

"My brother's in trouble."

"What?"

"He gave me a code word. Someone's got a gun on him." Sam said writing down the address on motel stationary.

"Code word?"

"Yeah – 'funky town'. He thought of it. It's kind of a long story. Come on." Sam explained when Ava looked at him as though she thought he had clearly lost his mind.

* * *

Sam walked Ava back to her car, Harry following closely behind them.

"I don't think I should leave."

"I want you out of harm's way, Ava."

"What about you?"

"Harm's way doesn't really bother me."

"No, but you are walking right into my vision. I mean, this is how you die!"

"He won't listen." Harry grouched, scowling at Sam, who just ignored him with practiced ease.

"It doesn't matter. It's my brother."

"Maybe I can help."

"You've done all you can. Just go back to your fiancé."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Go home, Ava. You'll be safe there."

Sam opened the door for her and she got inside the car. "Well, just promise me you'll call, then. I mean, when you get your brother, just to let me know that everything's all right."

"I promise."

* * *

Outside the building, Sam and Harry approached and Sam looked through a hole in the wood and saw Dean and Gordon inside.

'What can you see?"

"Shh."

"Relax, you're the only one who can see or hear me!"

"Right." Sam whispered before he went round the back and started to pick the lock. Sam slowly pushed the door open and an explosion went off in the room. A minute later a second, louder explosion went off.

Gordon took a rifle into the next room and looked around. He saw Sam's shoe on the floor. Suddenly Sam appeared behind him, pointing a gun at his head.

"Drop the gun."

"You shouldn't take your shoes off around here. You might get tetanus." Gordon said, not putting the gun down. Harry silently walked past them and started to untie Dean.

"Put it down now!" Sam yelled, pressing the gun into Gordon's head. Gordon dropped the gun.

"You wouldn't shoot me, would you, Sam? 'Cause your brother... he thinks you're some kind of saint."

"Yeah. Well I wouldn't be so sure."

"See, that's what I said." He turned around and grabbed Sam's arm, dropping his gun. He punched him repeatedly, until he fell to the ground. Gordon knelt next to him, grabbing a knife.

"You're no better than the filthy things you hunt." He raised the knife, but Sam stopped him and flipped him, punching him in the face. With Gordon on the ground, he picked up the sniper and aimed it. "Do it. Do it! Show your brother the killer you really are, Sammy." Sam didn't shoot however, instead he knocked Gordon out with the rifle and then dropped the gun on the floor next to the prone body.

"It's Sam." He then went to the next room and found Dean and Harry. He put a hand on Dean's shoulder and helped to finish untie Dean. Dean took off the gag and they both stood before Dean turned and moved to hold Sam's face in his hands.

"Son of a ..." Dean muttered, turning away.

"Dean, no."

"I let him live once, I'm not making the same mistake twice."

"Trust me. Gordon's taken care of. Come on."

The three left the building. Once they were outside, Gordon suddenly exited and began shooting at them, forcing them to have to run to safety.

"You call this 'taken care of'?" Dean asked as they dove behind a log.

"Well sort of." Harry admitted, ducking as a bullet hit the log near his head.

"Why are you even hiding, you can't die."

"I've told you before, it really hurts!" Harry whined, ducking as another bullet whizzed past his head.

"What the hell are we doing?" Dean asked, watching Gordon shoot at them.

"Just trust me on this, all right?" Sam asked as Gordon continued shooting at them. He was then suddenly surrounded by police cars.

"Drop your weapons! Get down on your knees! Do it, now!" Sam turned and grinned at Dean and Harry. They then turned back to watch as Gordon was handcuffed and the police officers found the arsenal in Gordon's car.

"Anonymous tip." Sam said with a wide grin.

"You're a fine, upstanding citizen, Sam." They shared a smile while Gordon is taken away.

* * *

"Gordon Walker was hunting Sam?" Ellen asked on the phone with Dean.

"Yeah, he almost killed us both, 'cause somebody over there can't keep their frickin' mouth shut." Dean said through gritted teeth. Sam and Harry exchanged a look.

"Dean, do you honestly think it was me? Or Ash? Or Jo? No way!"

"Well, who else knows about Sam? Huh? I mean, you must've been talking to somebody!"

"Hey, you can say a lot of things about us. But we aren't disloyal. And we're not stupid . We haven't breathed a word of this."

"Gordon said he had Roadhouse connections, Ellen."

"And this Roadhouse is full of other hunters. They're all smart, they're good trackers – each of them with their own patterns and connections. Hell, I could name twelve of them right now that are capable of putting this together. I am sorry about what happened, Dean. But I can't control these people. Or what they choose to believe."

* * *

Later in the Impala, Sam was on the phone to Ava. "Hey, Ava, it's Sam again. Call me when you get this. Just wanna make sure you got home okay. All right, bye."

"Everything alright?" Dean asked, looking at him.

"Yeah I hope so."

"It's a bit strange, her not answering when she asked you to ring." Harry said, leaning forward slightly to face them.

"Well, Gordon should be reaching for soap for the next few years, at least." Dean said with a smirk.

"Yeah, if they pin Scott Carey's murder on him. And if he doesn't bust out."

"Dude, you ever take off like that again..." Dean said after a moment of silence.

"What? You'd kill me?"

"No, I attempt to kill Harry." Dean said, making Sam chuckle and Harry to gasp in shock.

"Hey!" Harry exclaimed, sulking.

"All right. So, where to next, then?"

"One word – Amsterdam."

"Dean..." Sam started with a roll of his eyes.

"Come on, man, I hear the coffee shops don't even serve coffee."

"I'm not gonna just ditch the job." Sam said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Screw the job. Screw it, man. I'm sick of the job anyway. We don't get paid, we don't get thanked. The only thing we get is bad luck."

"Well come on, dude. You're a hunter. It's what you were meant to do." Sam said turning in his seat to face Dean.

"No, I wasn't mean to do anything. I don't believe that destiny crap."

"You mean, you don't believe in _my _destiny."

"Well, whatever."

"Look, Dean, I've tried running before. I mean, I ran all the way to California and look what happened. You can't run from this. And you can't protect me."

"Well, I can try." Dean said obstinately.

"Thanks for that." Dean nodded and Harry rolled his eyes. "Look, Dean, I'm gonna keep hunting. Whatever's coming, I'm taking it head-on. So if you really wanna watch my back, then I guess you're gonna have to stick around."

"Bitch."

"Jerk." Sam said with a smile, and picked up his phone.

"You calling that Ava girl again? You sweet on her or something?" Dean asked with a smirk, noticing Harry scowl at him through the rear-view mirror.

"She's engaged, Dean."

"So? What's the point of saving the world I you can't get a little nookie once in a while, huh?" Sam hung up, frowning and nibbling on his lower lip. "What?"

"Just a feeling... How far is it to Peoria?"

* * *

"Hello? Is anybody home?" They got no response. They walk into the bedroom and see Ava's fiancé lying in bed, dead. There was blood everywhere. "Oh my God." Dean went to the window and wiped of yellow residue with his fingers.

"Hey." Dean held up his hand. "Sulphur. Demon's been here."

Sam accidentally stood on something. He bent down to pick it up. He saw that is was Ava's engagement ring. He looks at it, shocked.

"Ava?"

**A/N – Well another chapter gone and I must admit, I've been getting some strange reviews... One told me not to force the relationship between Sam and Harry, which I'd like to think I'm not, but if I am, please tell me and I shall try to change it. I can understand where that reviewer was coming from though. Anyways, here's another chapter and please review and tell me what you think! Thank you!**


	12. Playthings

Chapter Eleven – Playthings.

"Yeah. Okay, thanks Ellen." Sam hung up the phone and sighed, looking at Dean who had entered with two cups of coffee in his hands.

"What'd she have to say?"

"She's got nothing. Me, I've been checking every database I could think of – federal, state and local. No one's head anything about Ava. She just... into thin air, you know? What about you?"

"No, same as before. Sorry man."

"Yeah. Ellen did have one thing."

"Hm?"

A hotel in connecticut – two freak accidents in the past three weeks."

"We have a job?" Harry asked, sitting up from where he was lying on the table.

"What's that have to do with Ava?" Dean asked

"Like Harry said, it's a job. I mean, a lady drowned in the bathtub, then a few days ago, guy falls down the stairs, head turns a complete one-eighty. Which isn't exactly normal, you know? Look, I don't know, Dean, it might be nothing. But I told Ellen we'd think about checking it out."

"You did."

"I think we should do it." Harry piped up from his seat.

"You seem surprised." Sam said to Dean.

"Well, it's just not the patented Sam Winchester way, is it?"

"And what way is that?"

"I just figured after Ava, there'd be more angst, droopy music, staring out the rainy windows." Sam and Harry stared at Dean strangely. "Okay, I'll shut up now."

"Look, I'm the one who told her to go back home. Now her fiancé's dead, and some demon has taken her off to God-knows-where, you know? We've been looking for a month now. We've got nothing. So, I'm not giving up on her, but I'm not gonna let other people die either. We've gotta save as many people as we can."

"Wow. That attitude is just way too healthy for me. I'm officially uncomfortable now. Thank you. All right. Call Ellen. Tell her we'll take it."

"Yes!" Harry jumped off the table and punched the air, getting a funny look from the two brothers.

--

"On top of spaghetti."

"Sam, tell him"

"All covered in cheese."

"Sammy"

"I lost my poor meatball."

"Make him stop."

"When somebody sneezed."

"Please."

"It rolled off the table."

"I'm gonna kill him."

"And onto the floor."

"I don't think you can kill him." Sam said with an amused smile on his face.

"And my poor meatball."

"I'm gonna try."

"Rolled out of the door."

"Has he stopped?" Dean asked after a couple minutes of silence."

"It rolled down the garden."

"Oh god."

"And into a bush."

"He's not even in key!"

"And my poor meatball."

"Are you sure I can't try to kill him?"

"Got ate by a thrush."

"Now has he finished?"

"I think so."

"I'm bored." Harry said after a couple minutes of silence.

"We'd noticed."

Harry sighed and shuffled in his seat.

"Ah silence."

"Found a peanut, found a peanut."

"That's it, he's gonna die."

--

When they arrived at the location, they pulled up to a large house, much to the excitement of Dean.

"Dude, this is sweet! We never get to work jobs like this."

"Like what?" Harry and Sam asked at the same time.

"Old-school haunted houses, you know? Fog, secret passageways, sissy British accents."

"Hey."

"We might even run into Fred and Daphne while we're inside. Mm, Daphne. Love her." Dean said with a chuckle.

"You're strange. She's a cartoon character."

"So?"

"So? So she's not real." Harry pointed out, looking at Dean strangely.

"Guys." Sam interrupted, gaining the attention of both men.

"What?"

"I'm not so sure 'haunted' is the problem."

"What do you mean?" Dean asked, Sam pointed to a design on the urn.

"Hey, I know what that mark is. It's a quincunx. A five-spot." Harry said, looking at the mark over Dean's shoulder.

"A five spot?" Dean asked, standing up straight and looking at Harry.

"Yep."

"That's used for hoodoo spellwork, isn't it?"

"Yep."

"Right. You fill this thing with bloodweed, you've got a powerful charm to ward off enemies." Sam told them, with Harry nodding and looking around them.

"Yeah, except I don't see any bloodweed. Don't you think this place is a little too white-meat for hoodoo?" Dean asked, looking at the building looming in front of them.

"Maybe." Sam agreed as they entered the hotel and found a woman at the front desk, who smiled at them politely.

"May I help you?"

"Hi, yeah. I'd like a room for a couple of nights." Dean asked, just as two girls ran by them, one of them bumping into Sam.

"Hey! Sorry about that." The woman, Susan apologised to them with a small smile.

"No problem." Sam replied, not noticing the frown on Harry's face as he watched the two girls run off.

"Huh."

"What's up?"

"Nothing."

"Well congratulations. You could be some of our final guests."

"That sounds vaguely ominous."

"No, I'm sorry. I mean, we're closing at the end of the month. Let me guess – you guys are here antiquing?" They exchange a brief look.

"How'd you know?" Dean asked with a charming smile.

"Oh, you just look the type. So uh, what type of room would you be requiring?"

"What? Oh, uh, two singles. We're just brothers." Sam added quickly.

"Oh, Oh I'm sorry, what about the third member of your party?"

"Huh? She can see you?" Dean muttered in Harry's ear.

"Well, yeah, no one said to go otherwise." Harry hissed back, before turning and smiling when the woman and Sam looked at them strangely.

"I um... I'll share with Sam." Harry said with a nod and a smile.

"Oh, so you're not a brother."

"No."

"What'd you mean that we look the type?" Dean suddenly asked out of nowhere, Susan hesitated and Sam took pity on her.

"You know, speaking of antiques, you have a really interesting urn on the front porch. Where did you get that?"

"You know, I have no idea. It's been there forever. Here you go, Mr Mahogoff. You'll be staying in room 237." She said as she handed the key over to Dean.

"Okay." Dean said as the bellhop arrived in the room.

"Sherwin, could you know these gentlemen to their rooms?"

"Let me guess – antiquers?"

--

In the hallway, the four men were climbing the stairs, Sherwin was carrying Dean's luggage and leading the way.

"I can give you a hand with that bag." Dean said

"I've got it."

"Okay."

"So, the hotel's closing up, huh?"

"Yep. Ssuan tried to make a go of it, but the guests just don't come like they used to. Still, it's a damn shame."

"Oh yeah?"

"It may not look it anymore, but this place was a palace. Two different vice-presidents laid their heads on our pillows. My parents worked here. I practically grew up here – gonna miss it. Here's your room." He unlocked the door for them and they went inside. Sherwin then held out his hand and stared at Dean expectantly. "You're not gonna cheap out on me, are you boy?"

Dean sighed and reluctantly took some money out of his pocket and handed it to Sherwin whilst Sam dug out some papers from his bag and started to look through them.

Dean closed the door behind Sherwin and looked around the room, noticing Harry was sitting on one of the beds and nibbling his lip in thought.

"What's up?" Dean asked Harry, making Harry jump and look at him.

"Huh?"

"What's up? You've been thoughtful ever since that little girl ran into us."

"Little girl? As in one?"

"Yeah, one. Why?"

"I saw two girls."

"Huh? How?"

"I think I've found the haunting."

"Yeah, unless you can normally see imaginary friends." Dean said with a chuckle.

"All right. Victim number one – Joan Edison, forty-three years old, a realtor, handling the sale of the hotel. And victim number two was Larry Williams, moving some stuff out to Goodwill."

"Well there's a connection. They're both tied up in shutting the place down."

"Yeah. Maybe someone here doesn't wanna leave and they're using hoodoo to fight back."

"The little girl."

"Huh?" Sam looked at Harry in confusion.

"There were two little girls that ran into you, not one."

"Really? A little girl?"

"Yep. Looks like it."

"So how do we stop her?" Sam asked, looking between the two men.

"Don't look at me, I can't do anything, she doesn't have a soul. Not that I could do anything even if she did have a soul, I'm on my last one, remember?" Harry pointed out, looking a bit uncomfortable at the thought.

"Oh yeah. So we have to try and exorcise the spirit without anyone getting suspicious."

"And without the little demon killing us." Harry pointed out helpfully.

"Yeah, that too."

"I've got a question." Dean piped up after a moment's silence.

"What?" Harry asked, looking at Dean.

"Why do these people assume we're gay?"

"Well you are kind of butch. But I think you're overcompensating." Sam said with a sweet smile, making Harry burst into laughter and Dean to force a smile.

"Right."

--

Walking down a hallway, they noticed another vase, similar to the one outside and stopped to look at it.

"Hey. Look at that, more hoodoo." Sam pointed out, showing them the same quincunx design. Dean looked at it and then knocked on the door nearby. Susan answered the door.

"Hi there." Dean said with a wide smile.

"Hi. Everything okay with your room?"

"Oh yeah, yeah."

"Yeah, yeah, everything's great." They said at the same time, whilst Harry nodded and smiled at her.

"Hey, are those antique dolls? 'Cause this one here –" Dean nodded to Sam. "—he's got a major doll collection back home. Don't you? Huh?" Dean asked, ignoring the glare on Sam's face and Harry's snickering.

"Big time." Sam said reluctantly.

"Big time. You think we could come in and take a look?"

"I don't know."

"Please? I mean, he _loves_ them. He's not gonna tell you this, but he's always dressing them up in these little, tiny outfits, and you'd make his day. She would, huh? Huh?"

"It's true." Sam deadpanned, making Harry and Dean grin.

"Okay. Come on in."

"All right. All right!! Wow. This is a lot of dolls. Nice, you know – not super-creepy at all." Dean said as they entered the room and looked around at the masses of dolls lined up on shelves around the room.

"Yeah they are a little creepy. But they've been in the family forever. A lot of sentimental value."

Sam and Harry wandered around the room, when Sam noticed a large dollhouse and looked at it. "What is this? The hotel?"

"Yeah, that's right. Exact replica, custom-built." Sam looked inside and noticed a doll with it's head turned around.

"His head got twisted around. What happened to it?"

"Tyler probably." She told them just as Tyler walked into the room, another little girl following behind her.

"Two girls. Two girls." Harry hissed at Sam, who turned to look at Tyler.

"Mommy, Maggie's being mean."

"Tyler, tell her I said to be nice, okay?"

"Hey Tyler. I see that you broke your doll. You want me to fix it?" Sam asked, picking up the doll in question.

"I didn't break it. I found it like that."

"Oh. Well maybe Maggie did it."

"No neither of us did it. Grandma would get mad if we broke them." Harry watched as the second girl, who assumed was Maggie, smirked and locked eyes with Harry.

"Tyler, she wouldn't get mad."

"Grandma?" Dean asked.

"Grandma Rose. These were all her toys."

"Oh really... where's Grandma Rose now?"

"Up in her room."

"You know, I'd really love to talk to rose about her incredible doll—"

"No." The boys looked at her, confused. "I mean... I'm afraid that's impossible. My mother's been very sick, and she's not taking any visitors."

--

Back in the hallway, Dean looked at Sam and Harry, "Well what do you think? Dolls, hoodoo, mysterious shut-in grandma."

"I thought we had agreed that it was the invisible girl, Maggie. The grandma has nothing to do with this."

"Maybe the girl and the grandma are connected somehow. I just think it's strange how she's locked away." Dean said, running his hands through his hair.

"Well, maybe, but we have a bigger problem."

"What's that?" Sam asked, looking at Harry.

"Maggie or whatever she's called, knows I can see her. Any guesses who the next victim will be?"

"Relax, it's not like she can kill you."

"No, but it'll hurt!" Harry whined, ignoring the smirk on Dean's face and looking at Sam for sympathy.

"I think we should try and see the grandma, Dean might have a point. And Harry, if you die, it might not hurt too much, be brave." Sam said, patting him on the shoulder.

"Maybe, but the hoodoo, it's innocent enough, I don't think we are searching for a witch doctor. At least, not a vindictive one."

"Maybe but better to be safe than sorry."

--

Later on, Sam and Harry were in their room, Sam looked out of the window and watched as a body was being put onto a stretcher. He closed the curtain and looked at Harry.

"Someone else has been killed."

"Well I never saw that coming." Harry admitted, picking at a loose thread on the bed throw.

"No, I can't help but think if we were quicker we could have saved him."

"Don't think like that, it'll drive you insane. Trust me."

--

Dean watched Susan talk to the police and then turn around and walk over to him.

"What happened?" Dean asked, watching as they took the body away.

"The maid went in to turn down the sheets, and he was just... hanging there."

"That's awful. He was a guest?"

"He worked for the company that bought the place. I don't understand.

"What?"

"I've had a lot of bad luck around here. Look, if you'd like to check out, I'll give you a full refund."

"No thanks, I don't scare that easy."

--

Dean entered the room and looked at it's two occupants, Sam was staring at out the window whilst Harry was sitting on a bed and picking at the loose thread.

"There's been another one. Some guy just hung himself in his room."

"Yeah, I saw."

"We've gotta figure this out and fast. What'd you find out about granny?"

"You're bossy."

"What?"

"You're bossy. And short." He said as he burst into giggles and Dean looked to a smirking Harry.

"Are you drunk? Is he drunk?" Dean asked, looking at a giggling Sam incredulously.

"Yep."

"Yeah. So? Stupid." Sam said with a giggle

"Dude what are you thinking? We're working a case. You let him get drunk?"

"Well it was kind of hard to say no when he looked like a kicked puppy, besides I thought it would cheer him up a little." They both turned to look at Sam who was verging on tears.

"That guy who hung himself – I couldn't save him."

"Here we go again." Harry muttered, rolling his eyes.

"What are you talking about? You didn't know, you couldn't have done anything."

"That's what I said."

"That's an excuse Dean. I should've found a way to save him. I should've saved Ava, too."

"Yeah, well, you can't save everyone. Even you said that."

"No, Dean, you don't understand, all right? The more people I save, the more I can change."

"Change what?" Dean and Harry both asked at the same time.

"My destiny, Dean!"

"All right, time for bed. Come on, Sasquatch." Dean led Sam to the bed, shooing Harry away from it and helping Sam get into it.

"I need you to watch out for me." Sam mumbled to Dean.

"Yeah. I always do."

"No, no, no. You have to _watch out _for me, all right? And if I ever turn into something that I'm not... You have to kill me."

"Sam."

"You kill him and I will rip your soul out and drag it down to hell with me." Harry hissed at Dean.

"No Harry, Dean, Dad told you to do it. You have to."

"Yeah, well, Dad's an ass. He never should've said anything. I mean, you don't do that, you don't lay that kind of crap on your kids."

"No, he was right to say it. Who knows what I might become? Even now, everyone around me dies!"

"Well I'm not dying, and you won't find anyone harder to kill than Harry. And neither are you. Come on."

"No please. Dean, you're the only one who can do it. Promise."

"Don't ask that of me."

"Dean, please. You have to promise me."

"I promise."

"What!!" Harry shrieked as Sam leans forward and clutched Dean's face.

"Thanks. Thank you." Dean pushed him away and Sam rolls onto his stomach and goes to sleep.

"My warning still stands, if you kill him, I kill you."

"Shut up Harry."

"No, I'm serious. Why did you agree to kill him?"

"What if he's right and he changes? What? Do I just let him run rampage and kill loads of people?"

"No. If worse comes to worse, I'll take him. I can't let you kill him, I just can't."

"Well let's cross that bridge when we get there."

--

Harry sighed as he watched Dean walk out of the room and looked at Sam, who was sleeping soundly in his bed.

"What's wrong with you?" Harry jumped and spun around, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw Hank standing behind him.

"Hank. What are you doing here?" Harry asked, tilting his head to the side.

"I just thought I would check up on you, make sure the brothers are still treating you alright."

"They are."

"I heard you shout."

"Dean and I just had a little disagreement. It's been settled now."

"You're going to take the boys soul?"

"He will be my last."

"You know I can change that."

"Yes, but I'm not going to ask that of you."

"Fair enough." Hank looked around the room and then turned his attention back to Harry, who was looking at Sam.

"Are you happy with these two?"

"Yes, I really am."

"Good. Then I am happy for you. Next time I see you, I want you to have made progress on getting your control of your magic back. You've stopped since you came back to those boys."

"I didn't want them to see me as a freak."

"Surely they will see that it will help them."

"Maybe."

"At least try, For me. And try to win that boys heart. You have a deadline."

"What?"

"I want to see progress when I come back to check on you."

"How will I know when you will next be coming to see me?"

"You don't, so you had better get working then, hadn't you." Hank told him and then disappeared leaving Harry to sigh and glance at Sam.

"I don't suppose you heard any of that." Sam shifted in his sleep and then settled again. "Didn't think so."

--

Dean walked down to the bar and approached the bar where Sherwin was standing.

"Find any antiques?"

"No, no. Got distracted."

"Have a drink."

"Yeah, thanks." Sherwin poured him a drink and Dean looked down into his glass. "So, poor guy. Killing himself."

"That kind of thing seems to be going around lately."

"Yeah, I heard about the other ones. It's almost like the hotel is cursed of something."

"Every hotel has its spilled blood. If people only knew what's gone on in some of those rooms they've checked into."

"You know a lot about this place, don't you?"

"Down to the last nail."

"I'd love to hear some stories."

"Boy, you should never say that to an old man." He led Dean to the staircase, where several pictures are on the wall. He pointed to a certain picture. "This is little miss Susan and her mother, Rose – happier days."

"They're not hapy now?"

"Well would you be? Leaving the only home you ever knew?"

"I don't know. I never really knew one."

"Well this is Rose's home. It's been in the family over a century. It used to be the family estate. And now she gets to live in some senior living graveyard, and they tear this place down."

"That's too bad. I hear Rose isn't feeling well either."

"No, she isn't."

"What's wrong with her?"

"It's not my business to say."

"Huh. Who's this?" Dean asked, pointing to a picture on the wall.

"That's Rose, when she was a little girl." In the picture, Rose was seated next to a black woman. She was wearing a necklace with the same quincunx symbol from the urn.

"Who's that with her?"

"That's her nanny, Marie. She looked after Rose more than he own mother."

--

Dean walked into their room and was greeted with the sight of Sam knelt at the toilet and Harry kneeling next to him, rubbing his back.

"How you feelin' Sammy? I guess mixing whiskey and Jager wasn't such a gangbuster idea, was it? I bet you don't remember a thing from last night, do you?" Dean asked cheerfully, leaning on the doorframe.

"Ugh, I can still taste the tequila." Sam groaned, leaning on Harry. Dean glanced at Harry, a relieved look on his face.

"You know, there's a really good hangover remedy. It's a greasy pork sandwich served up in a dirty ashtray."

Sam groaned and buried his face in Harry's chest, "Oh, I hate you."

"I know you do. Hey it turns out when Grandma Rose was a tyke, she had a Creole nanny who wore a hoodoo necklace."

"So you think she taught Rose Hoodoo?"

"Yes, I do."

"All right. I think it's time we talk to Rose, then."

"You need to brush your teeth first."

"Wait a minute. What about the little girl?" Harry said, looking at the two brothers.

"Maybe she is a spirit summoned by Rose."

"So why is she hanging around the little girl, Tyler?"

"I don't know. Maybe that's what we can ask Rose."

"Fine, but for the record, I still don't think Rose has anything to do with this." Harry said, helping Sam stand up.

--

In the hallway, the boys approached a door and knocked on it. "Hello? Susan?" There was no response and Sam turned to Harry and Dean. "All clear?"

"Mm-hmm."

Sam picked the lock and they entered. Inside the room, there was another door leading up a flight of stairs. They climbed the stairs and reached the attic. They spotted Rose sat in the dark in her wheelchair.

"Ms. Thompson?" There was no response. "Mrs Thompson? Rose?" They walked around to face her. She looked very scared but didn't speak to them. "Hi, Mrs Thompson. We're not here to hurt you, it's okay. We... Rose?" Although she tried, she still couldn't talk. "Dean. This woman's had a stroke."

"Yeah, but hoodoo's hands-on."

"Yeah." Sam agreed, whilst Harry looked at the old woman in front of him.

"You've got to mix herbs and chant and build an altar."

"So it can't be Rose. Heck, maybe it's not even hoodoo. Maybe Harry was right."

"Thank you." Harry said with a smug grin.

"You know, she could be faking." Dean said, looking at the woman. Harry stared at Dean as if he was crazy.

"Yeah, what do you wanna do? Poke her with a stick?" Dean nodded. "Dude! You're not gonna poke her with a stick!" Sam exclaimed, just as the door opened and Susan walked in.

"What the hell? What are you doing in here?"

"Oh we just wanted to, uh..."

"Oh we just wanted to talk to Rose." Sam said at the same time as Dean. Harry just stood back and stayed silent.

"Look at her, she is scared out of her wits. I want you out of my hotel in two minutes or I'm calling the cops."

--

Outside, Susan's car started on it own. The playground merry-go-round began to spin on its own. The swings began to move faster. Her car began to move toward her. As it was abot to hit her, Sam pushed her out of the way.

"You okay?" Sam asked her.

"I think so." Dean came over and helped them to stand up, whilst Harry kept an eye on the car.

--

The four entered the hotel dining room and sat down at the bar.

"Whiskey." Susan said

"Sure. I know the feeling." Sam told her, getting a bottle of whiskey down.

"What the hell happened out there?"

"You want the truth?" Dean asked

"Of course."

"Well at first, we thought it was some sort of hoodoo curse. But that out there? That was definitely a spirit."

"Here." Sam handed her a glass of whiskey.

"You're insane."

"It's been said."

"By me," Harry muttered, getting a glare from Dean.

"Look, I'm sorry, Susan. We don't exactly have the time to ease you into this. But we need to know when your mother had the stroke." Sam told her.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Just answer the question."

"About a month ago."

"Right before the killings began." Sam turned to Dean and Harry. "See? So what if Rose _was_ working hoodoo, but not to hurt anyone, to protect them?"

"She was using the five-spot urns to ward off a spirit."

"Right until she had a stroke and she couldn't anymore."

"I don't believe this."

"Listen sister, that car didn't try to run you down by itself, okay?... Well I guess it did, technically, but a spirit can—forget it." Dean sighed and gave up, much to the amusement of Harry.

"Just believe what you want, all right? But the fact is you and your family are in danger. So you need to clear everybody out of here – your employees, your mother, your daughter, everyone."

"Where is Tyler?" Harry asked, ignoring the two brothers.

"Tyler? Why?"

"Maggie."

--

The boys and Susan entered Tyler's bedroom and looked around the room for the little girl.

"Tyler?!" They find that most of the antique dolls have been broken. "Oh my God. Tyler! Tyler?! She's not here!"

"Susan, tell us what you know about Maggie."

"Not much. Tyler's been talking to her since Mom got sick."

"Okay, did you ever know anyone by that name?"

"No."

"Think, think. Maybe somebody that could have lived here, might have passed away?"

"Oh my God. My mom. My mom had a sister named Margaret. She barely spoke about her."

"Did Margaret happen to die here when she was a kid?" Harry asked her urgently.

"She drowned in the pool."

"Come on."

--

The four of them reached the pool house and saw Tyler on the ledge.

"Tyler! Tyler!" The boys tried to break the glass but couldn't.

"Come on!

"Mommy!" Maggie grabbed Tyler's arm and pushed her into the pool.

"Is there another entrance?"

"Around back!"

"All right, let's go." Dean turned to Sam and Harry. "Keep working."

"Yeah." He grabbed an urn and began to crack the glass with it. In the pool, Tyler came up for air, but Maggie pushed her head underwater.

"Move out the way." Harry said, glaring at the door.

"But..."

"Move!" Sam shook his head and moved out the way.

"Thank you. Um... _Alohomora_." Harry closed his eyes and then opened one of them and looked at the door.

"It's still locked."

"Argh! _Reducto_!!!" The glass in the door smashed and Sam and Harry ran forward to open the door, Sam ran forward and jumped into the pool. He swam past the tarp and grabbed Tyler, lying limp in his arms. Dean and Susan finally entered and Sam lay Tyler on the edge of the pool. After a minute she spat up water.

"Oh thank God! Thank God!"

"Mommy!"

"Yeah, baby, I'm here!"

"Tyler, do you see Maggie anywhere?" Tyler looked around and then shook her head.

"No she's gone." Sam looked at Harry for confirmation and got a nod in turn.

--

Sam, Dean and Harry were waiting in Tyler's bedroom for Tyler and Susan to fetch Rose.

"I don't get it. Did Maggie just stop?"

"I don't know. She just disappeared just as Sam jumped in the pool." Harry told them with a shrug.

"Where the hell did she go?" They suddenly heard a scream come for the attic. They raced up the stairs to meet her there and found Rose in her wheelchair, dead.

--

Outside later, the boys watched the coroner put Rose's body onto a stretcher. The boys approached Susan.

"The paramedics said it was another stroke. You think Margaret could have had something to with it?"

"We don't know."

"But it's possible. Susan, I'm sorry."

"God, you have nothing to apologise for. You've given me everything." Tyler met them outside. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah."

"Tyler, you're sure Maggie's not around anymore."

"I'm sure. I'd see her." They walk to a taxi waiting for them.

"Well, U guess whatever's going on must be over."

"Yes, and I'd like to say I told you so. Told you Maggie was suspicious." Harry said, sticking his tongue out.

"Mature." Dean noted dryly.

"Thank you, all of you." Susan said as she got into the taxi and drove away.

"I think you could've hooked up some MILF action there, man. Seriously, I think she liked you."

"Hmm." Harry glared at where the car had drove off.

"Yeah, that's all she needs."

"Well you saved the mom, you saved the girl – not a bad day. Of course, you know I could've saved her myself, but I didn't want you to feel useless."

"All right, I appreciate it." Sam said, laughing. They reached the car and got inside it.

"Feels good to be back in the saddle, doesn't it?"

"Yeah. Yeah, it does. But it doesn't change what we talked about last night, Dean."

"We talked about a lot of things last night."

"You know what I mean."

"You were wasted." Dean exclaimed, making Harry snort in laughter.

"But you weren't. And you promised." Dean opened his mouth to respond and then closed it again, shaking his head and starting the car.

"It won't ever happen though. I'll make sure of it." Harry said, staring out the window of the car and thus not seeing the look the brothers shot him.

"How do you suppose you will stop it?"

"I have contacts in low places. I'll make sure of it."

"Like Hank?" Sam asked.

"And others. So chill."

--

**A/N - So finally, here's another chapter. I know it took a while, and to be honest, I kind of lost where I was going with this, which I think some of you may have noticed. Hopefully, there is enough Harry in this chapter, and I promise to make a conscious effort to include him more in later chapters. Thank you to everyone who reviewed and those who are still following this and haven't given up on me. Thank you!!! **


	13. Nightshift

Chapter Twelve – Nightshift

A reporter is standing in front of a bank; several police cars are surrounding the building.

"We're here, downtown, in front of the City Bank of Milwaukee, and tough a short exchange of weapons fire occurred just minutes ago, police and S.W.A.T teams maintain position as we enter the third hour of this intense standoff. Authorities estimate as many as ten hostages are being held inside the bank. No word is yet on the identity of the suspects or... uh... something's happening." The camera zoomed in on the front door of the bank. "I think they're opening a door. Roger, are you getting this?"

Dean exited the bank, leading a security guard out with him. He noticed the cameras and stared at them, wide-eyed.

--

(Previous Day)

Inside a jewellery store Dean is dressed in a suit and is talking and flirting with one of the female employees.

"So what's it like being an FBI guy?"

"Well... it's dangerous. And the secrets we've gotta keep... oh God, the secrets. But mostly, it's lonely."

"I _so _know what you mean."

"Yeah."

--

In another part of the shop Sam and Harry were talking to a second male employee, well Sam was talking to a male employee; Harry was invisible and was pulling faces at the employee.

"Helena was our head buyer. She... she was failing you know? She said it herself. Every year at the Christmas party, she said we were the only family she had."

"That's kind of sad, think he can sense me here?"

"So, there were never any signs that she'd do something like this?"

"Saaam. You're ignoring me." Harry whined, moving away from the employee and moving the stand next to Sam.

"No. I still can't believe it, even now. That night, Helena came back to the store after closing, cleaned out all the display cases and the safe. Edgar, our night watchman – he caught her in the act. He didn't know what to do. He'd known her for years. He called me at home."

"I might just take a trinket."

"And that's when she took his gun?"

"And bang! In the face." Harry said before erupting into giggles.

"She shot him in the face. I heard him die through the phone."

"Has anyone thought of sending this guy to a counsellor?"

"Any idea what her motive could have been?"

"Who needs a motive? Look at all the shiny!!"

"What motive? It makes no sense. Why steal all those diamonds, all that jewellery, then what? Just dump it somewhere? Just hide it and then go home and—"

--

"—She killed herself?" Dean asked

"Well the cops said she dropped the hairdryer in the bath and fried herself. They should know, right?"

"Yeah. Well... thanks, Frannie. I think that's all I need."

"Really? I mean, 'cause... I've got more. You know... if you wanted to interview me... sometime. In private."

"Yeah. Yeah, I think that's a good idea. You're a true patriot. You really are. Why don't you write your number down for me?" Dean glanced over at Sam and Harry, looking slightly unsure.

--

"So you never saw the security camera footage yourself, then?"

"Why would he? He's just an employee. Jeez Sam, get a clue." Harry scoffed, smirking at Sam, who just ignored him.

"The police – they took all the tapes, first thing."

"Here comes the great lummox—I mean Dean." Harry said with a wide smile when Dean reached them, making Dean's eyes narrow suspiciously, before smiling widely at the employee.

"Of course they did."

--

Outside of Ronald Resnick's house, Sam, Dean and a still invisible Harry sat in the Impala and looked at each other.

"This is it."

"Ugh, friggin' cops."

"To be fair, they're just doing their job." Harry pointed out, smiling brightly when Dean looked at him as they got out of the car

"Since when do _you_ stick up for the cops? Besides, they're doing _our_ job, only they don't know it, so they suck at it." Leading the way up to the front door of the house. "Talk to me about this bank."

"Milwaukee National Trust – it was hit about a month ago." Sam told him, sniggering slightly when Harry tripped over.

"Shh."

"Same M.O as the jewellery store?"

"Yep, inside job, long-time employee, the never-in-a-million-years type. Dude robs the bank then goes home and supposedly commits suicide."

"See, it's the suicide part that confuses me. Why not run as far away as you can get before you get caught?"

"I see your point. So this guy Resnick – he was a security guard on duty?"

"Yeah. He was actually beaten unconscious by the teller who heisted the place."

"God..."

"Oh who hasn't been knocked unconscious?" Harry asked, rolling his eyes.

"It's called sympathy Harry. Maybe you should try it." Sam said as they knocked on the door.

"Why bother, that's what they're looking for anyway. Why give it to them? Makes life more interesting to not give it them."

"How does it make- Mr Resnick?" Sam called through the door. "Ronald Resnick?"

A bright light suddenly turns on and blinds them all temporarily. "Son of a..." Dean stopped himself as Ronald comes to the door.

"I knew someone called Ronald once. He thought I was a traitor when I died. Of course Hank told them otherwise. Well and the fact that I took Old Voldie-boots with me." Harry added as an after thought.

"FBI, Mr Resnick." Sam said, making a conscious effort to ignore Harry.

"Let me see the badge." Ronald asked, making Harry snigger and the boys to slam their badges against the glass of the door. "I already gave my statement to the police."

"Suspicious guy, ain't he?"

"Yeah, listen, Ronald. There's just some things about your statement we wanted to get some clarification on." Dean stated

"You read it?"

"Sure did."

"Come to listen to what I've gotta say?"

"Oh do we have to?" Harry moaned, leaning on the wall of the house.

"Well that's why we're here."

Ronald looked at the suspiciously and then moved away and opened the door. "Come on in." He led them into his living room. "None of the cops ever called me back. Not after I told them what was really going on. They all thought I was crazy. First off, Juan Morales never robbed the Milwaukee National Trust, okay? That I guarantee. See me and Juan were friends. He used to come back to the bank on my night shifts and we'd play cards." Harry wandered around the room, looking at the pictures and wall charts about aliens and supernatural activity. Sam walked up behind Harry and looked at the wall in confusion.

"So you let him into the bank that night? After hours?"

"The thing I let into the bank... wasn't Juan. I mean, it had his face, but it wasn't _his_ face. Every detail was perfect, but _too_ perfect, you know, like a doll-maker made it. Like I was talking to a big Juan doll."

"This guy is crackers."

"A Juan doll?"

Ronald handed them a file and tapped it, "Look. This wasn't the only time this happened, okay? There was this jewellery store, too, and the cops and you guys – you just won't see it. Both crimes were pulled by the same thing."

"He might have a point."

"What's that Mr Resnick?" Sam asked, Ronald held up an issue of _Fortean Times_ with the cover page that read, 'Birth of the Cybermen.'

"Or maybe not. Aren't they copyright to _Doctor_ _Who_?"

"Chinese have been working on it for years. And the Russians before that – part-man, part machine. Like the Terminator, but the kind that can change itself, make itself look like other people."

"Like the one from T2."

"Oh sure, encourage the guy."

"Exactly! See, it's not just a robot. It's more of a... a mandroid."

"A mandroid?"

"A mandroid?" Harry and Sam asked at the same time.

"And what makes you so sure about this, Ronald?"

Ronald grinned and put a videotape into the VCR. "See I made copies of all the security tapes. I knew once the cops got them, they'd be buried. Here." He played the tape for them to watch. "Watch... watch him... watch him. Look! There it is!"

"What are we looking at here?" Harry asked, squinting at the TV screen. Ronald paused the screen where Juan's eyes looked completely silver. "Oh! I see it! Wait."

"You see, he's got the laser eyes" Dean and Sam exchanged a look behind Ronald's back. "The cops said it was some kind of reflected light, some kind of camera flare. Ain't no damn camera flare. They say I'm a post-trauma case. So what? Bank goes and fires me? It don't matter! The mandroid is still out there! The law won't hunt this thing down? I'll do it myself. You see, this thing – it kills the real person, makes it look like suicide. Then it sort of morphs into that person, cases the job for a while till it knows the take is fat, and then it finds its opening. Now, there robberies – they're grouped together, so I figure that the mandroid is holed up somewhere in the middle. Underground, maybe, I don't know. Maybe that's where it recharges it's, uh... mandroid batteries!"

"This guy is completely wacked. Though he does have a point."

"Okay, I want you to listen very carefully. 'Cause I'm about to tell you the God's-honest truth about all of this." Sam said standing up. "There's no such thing as mandroids. There's nothing evil or inhuman going on out there. Its just people. Nothing else, you understand?"

"But... the laser eyes,"

"Wow, this guy doesn't give up. Gotta give him props for that."

"It's just a camera flare, Mr Resnick. See, I know you don't wanna believe this, but your friend, Juan robbed the bank, and that's it."

"Get out of my house! Now!"

"Sure. First thing's first."

--

"Man, that has got to be the kicker, straight up. You tell that poor son of a bitch that – what did you say?" Dean said as they entered their motel room.

"Remand the tapes that he copied. Classified evidence of an ongoing investigation." Harry recited from memory with a grin.

"Yeah, what he said! That's messed up."

"What, are you pissed at me or something?"

"No, I just think it's a little creepy how good of a Fed you are. Come on, we could've at least thrown the guy a bone. He did some pretty good legwork here."

"_Mandroid_?" Sam scoffed, getting a snigger from Harry.

"Sam does have a point. The guy had watched too much _Doctor Who_."

"Fine. Except for the mandroid part. I liked him. He's not that different from you and me. People think we're crazy. Well besides Harry, people _know_ he's crazy."

"Oi!"

"Yeah, except he's not a hunter, Dean. He's just a guy who stumbled onto something real. If he were to go up against this thing, he'd get torn apart. Better to stay in the dark and stay alive."

"Yeah I guess."

"Sam's right." Harry said, taking his seat on top of the table and looking at the two brothers.

Sam watched the tape and paused it when it showed Juan and his silver eyes. "Shape-shifter. Just like back in St. Louis. Same retinal reaction to video."

"Oh, I hate Shape-shifters. They never seem to accept their death. I don't see what is so hard to comprehend. You're dead. Buh-bye." Harry said, waving his hand at nobody and ignoring the bemused expressions on the brother's faces.

"I have to agree with Harry. I hate those things." Dean said, getting a shocked look from Harry.

"You think I don't?" Sam asked, looking away from the TV.

"Yeah, well, one didn't turn into you and frame you for murder." Dean said as he began to sketch a pattern on a map of the city

"Surely there is something similar between the two."

"Well if this shifter is anything like the one in Missouri—"

"Then Ronald's right. All right, they like to layer up underground, preferably the sewer. Now, all the robberies have been connected so far, right?"

"Yeah." Sam agreed, nodding.

"To the sewer main layout." Dean pointed to the map. "There's one more bank lined up on that same sewer main."

--

They walked trough the City Bank of Milwaukee, the two brothers dressed in SecuriServe Guard Service uniforms as they followed a security guard through the bank, an invisible Harry followed closely behind.

"Well we haven't had any flags go up on our system yet." The security guard told them as he led them through the bank.

"This is such a bad idea." Harry muttered, looking around them for any suspicious behaviour.

"No, no. This is a glitch in the overall grid. We just wanna make sure the branch monitors are kosher." Dean told him.

"How do we find out _who_ the shifter is?"

"Can they see you?" Sam hissed, glancing at the security guard.

"Pardon?" The security guard asked, looking behind him.

"Nothing."

"Shifters? No they can only see me if I let them." Harry answered, before sticking his tongue out at the security guard.

"All righty. You guys need anything else?" The security guard asked them as they walked into the monitor room.

"Oh no, no. We'll be in and out before you know it. Just a routine check." Sam said as he walked over to the monitors.

"Okey dokey." The security guard said and then left the room.

"I like him. He says 'okey dokey'" Dean said with a grin.

"You're an idiot."

"What if he's the shifter?" Sam asked, interrupting the argument before it started.

"Well, then we follow him home with a silver bullet in his chest plate." Dean said as they all took a seat in front of the monitors. "Okay. You got any popcorn?"

"Do you ever think about anything other than your stomach?"

"Guys. Let's just watch the tapes." Sam said, interrupting whatever it was that Dean was going to say.

A while later, the three of them were watching the tapes and noticed that the security guard's eyes were normal when he glanced at the camera.

"Well, it looks like Mr Okey-Dokey is... okey-dokey."

"Maybe we jumped the gun on this, Dean. We don't even know it's here. Maybe we should just go back to the sewers and..." Sam trailed off noticing that Dean was zooming in on one of the female employees arse. "Dean, we're supposed to be looking for eyes."

"Yeah Dean. Jeez you letch." Harry scoffed, still looking at one of the tapes.

"I'm getting there."

"Oh yeah?" Sam asked, smirking.

"Ooh! Wait a minute! Lookie here!" Harry stated, pausing the screen to show the bank manager's silver eyes.

"Hello freak." Dean stated, looking at the screen.

"Got him."

"Sam." Dean called just as Harry and Sam stood up to leave.

"What?"

"Hello Ronald." Dean said, pointing to another monitor.

"Oh great, The Ronald I knew was this stupid too."

--

The three ran down a hallway to reach the front lobby of the bank, hoping to get there before Ronald did something too stupid.

"And you said we shouldn't bring guns." Dean scorned as they rushed though the hallway.

"I didn't know this was gonna happen, Dean."

"Just let me do the talking. I don't think he likes you very much, Agent Johnson." Dean stated, getting a laugh from Harry.

"I could talk to him."

"No!" Both brothers exclaimed at the same time, as they reached the doors to the main lobby.

"Now there's only one way in or out of here, and I chained it up. So nobodies leaving, you understand?" They heard Ronald say as they walked through the doors.

"Hey buddy? Calm down. Just calm down." Dean said, walking into the lobby.

"What? _You_?! Get on the floor, now!" Ronald yelled, looking at the two brothers incredulously, and making Harry snigger.

"I'd get down if I were you, he looks a tweak unstable." Harry said, as the brothers bother knelt down.

"Okay, we're doing that. Just don't shoot anybody, especially us." Dean added hastily, which in turn made Harry laugh harder.

"I knew it. As soon as you two left. You ain't FBI. Who are you? Who you working for, huh? The Men In Black? You workin' for the mandroid?!"

"We're not working for the mandroid."

"You think the 'mandroid' knows we're talking about him?" Harry asked, walking up to Ronald and circling him.

"You shut up! I ain't talking to you, I don't like you!" Ronald said to Sam, which made Dean smirk.

"Fair enough."

Ronald turned to an employee and beckoned him over. "Get over there. Frisk them down; make sure they've got no weapons. Go!"

The employee first patted down Sam, which made Harry narrow his eyes and growl lowly, and found no weapon. He then moved to Dean, stopping at Dean's shoes. Dean sighed and the employee raised Dean's trouser leg and removed a knife from his sock.

"Now, what have we here?"

"It's a knife moron. Why'd you bring that?" Harry asked incredulously, moving closer to Sam.

"I'm not gonna walk in here naked!" Who he was talking to was unclear, but Sam rolled his eyes and sighed, watching the employee hand the knife over to Ronald.

"Get back down." Ronald told them, before throwing the knife into the bin. Harry narrowed his eyes and then walked over to the bin and took the knife out, making sure to slip it under his sleeve so that no one noticed a floating knife.

"No, no, no, no!" Dean exclaimed with a sigh, "We know you don't wanna hurt anybody. But that's exactly what's gonna happen if you keep waving that cannon around. Now, why don't you let these people go?"

"Oh yeah, that's gonna work. What do you want em to do with this knife?" Harry asked, walking back to stand near Sam.

"No! I already told you, if nobody's gonna stop this thing, then I've gotta do it myself!"

"Told you so."

"Not helping." Dean muttered through clenched teeth and getting the attention of Ronald.

"What did you say?"

"I said... 'We believe you!" That's why we're here." Dean told him, ignoring the sniggering coming from Harry.

"Sure that's what you said. Seriously though, have the knife back, I don't want it, it's silver and is giving me the wiggins. Did I ever mention I'm allergic to silver?"

"No you're not." Dean said before realising too late that he had spoken aloud.

"Who are you talking to? Is there someone else here?" Ronald asked, looking around for someone.

"Oh shit." Harry muttered, jumping out the way when Ronald stepped nearer to him. "Stop him Dean! He's looking for me! This is all your fault."

"I'm not talking to anyone. I just um... talking to myself."

"Smooth."

"I don't believe you."

"Fine don't, who would I be talking to? A reaper?"

"A reaper? You're talking to a reaper?"

"Dean!" Harry hissed, failing to see the amused twinkle in Sam's eyes.

"No, I was just giving an example of what I could have been talking to." Dean explained hastily.

"So what are you talking to?"

"I told you! I was talking to myself!" Dean exclaimed, throwing his arms up into the air in frustration.

"And I told you I don't believe you."

"Fine. Show yourself Harry." Dean said with a sigh.

"No." Harry said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Harry!"

"No!"

"Why not?"

"Because."

"Who's he talking to? Is it the mandroid? Can they go invisible?" Ronald asked, looking around him wildly.

"Oh this is ridiculous. I am not showing myself to this lunatic, I'll get shot!"

"He won't shoot you."

"Who says?" Harry asked, stepping closer to an amused Sam.

"Ronald, if he shows himself, will you shoot him?"

"Why? He is a mandroid isn't he?"

"I'm not a bloody mandroid, and they're called Cybermen!" Harry stated, showing himself to Ronald only.

"Wha- Who are you?"

"I'm Harry, and now you're talking to yourself because these lovely people can't see me, only you and the brothers can." Harry told him before glaring at Sam.

"Ronald, come here."

"What? No!"

"Oh Ronald, just do as he asks."

"You're holding the gun, boss, you're calling the shots. I just wanna tell you something. Come here." Ronald slowly approached Dean and Dean leant over to whisper in Ronald's ear. "It's the bank manager."

"What?"

"Why do you think we got these get-ups, huh? We've been monitoring the cameras in the back. We saw the bank manager. We saw his eyes."

"His laser eyes?"

"Oh for the-"

"Yes – no, no! Look, we're running out of time, okay? We've gotta find him before he changes into someone else."

"Like I'm gonna listen to you! You're a damn liar!" Dean began to stand, and Harry rolled his eyes. "I'll shoot you, get down!"

"Oh for the love of god, you're not going to shoot anyone you big poser." Harry muttered, sighing and fidgeting where he was standing.

"How would you know?"

"Take me. Take me with you, take me as a hostage. But we've gotta act fast. 'Cause the longer we just sit here, the more time he had to change. Look at me, man. I believe you. You're not crazy. There really is something inside this bank."

"All right. You come with me. But everyone else gets in the vault! Harry, or whatever he is called, included!" Ronald said after a moments pause.

--

Harry sighed as he followed Sam and the remaining employees into the vault. He had discreetly, or however discreetly you could, made himself visible to the rest of the people in the bank.

"Come on, move! Move, move! Now you lock it up." Ronald said to Dean.

"It's okay everyone. Just stay cool."

"Who is that man?" A female employee asked Sam when they heard Dean locking the vault.

"He's my brother." Sam said sadly, prompting Harry to step closer to him and grab his hand.

"He is _so_ brave."

--

"Check behind the desk." Dean said as he and Ronald entered an office. Ronald moved behind the desk and slipped on something, giving a girly scream and standing up, revealing a slippery pile of skin on the floor.

"What the hell is that?"

"Oh great. When it changes form, it sheds its own skin. So, now it could be anybody." Dean told him.

Ronald picked up some of the skin and examined it. "It's so weird. Its robot skin is so life-like."

"Of course it's life-like moron. It is real." Harry stated, walking into the office and making both Dean and Ronald jump and face him.

"What are you doing here? How are you here?" Ronald asked, looking at a smirking Harry.

"I'm a reaper, do you really think that a vault wall is going to stop me?" Harry asked, bored and leaning against the doorframe.

"A reaper?"

"Yep and that thing you're chasing? Not a mandroid. It's a shapeshifter."

"A shapeshifter?"

"Yeah. It's human, more or less. It had human drives – in this case, it's money." Dean said, taking over from Harry. "But it generates its own skin. It can shape it to match someone else's features – tall, short, male."

"So it kills someone and then takes their place?"

"Kills 'em or doesn't kill 'em, I don't think it really matters." Dean said with a shrug. "Did you keep the knife?"

"Yeah, why?"

"What are you doing?" Ronald asked nervously, watching Harry hand the knife over to Dean.

"You remember the old werewolf stories? They pretty much came from these guys. Silver's the only thing that hurts them. Come on, Ronald." Dean said and they all left the office.

--

They were walking through the bank, aimlessly wandering around the lobby, looking for the shapeshifter, when Ronald started laughing for no apparent reason.

"What are you, nuts?" Dean asked, looking at Ronald incredulously.

"That's just it – I'm _not_ nuts! I mean I was so scared that I was losing my marbles, but this is real!! I was right! Except for the mandroid thing – thank you."

"Yeah, don't mention it." Dean said just as the power suddenly went out. "Damn it. No, no, no."

"Er... it's gone dark. Anyone got a light?"

"Can't you do some voodoo? Don't think Sammy didn't tell me about it."

"It's magic, not voodoo and I don't know."

"Wait, you can do magic? Magic's real?"

"Now look what you've done." Harry whined in the dark.

"Harry. Can you use your magic?" Dean asked through gritted teeth.

"Um... I can try."

"This is so cool."

"Oh shut up." Harry grumbled before placing his hand, palm up, in front of him. "_Lumos_!" A ball of light appeared on his hand, making Harry smile brightly.

"Oh wow. So what do we do now?" Ronald asked after a moment.

"Well the power cut was probably their way of saying hi."

"Who?"

"The cops."

"The _cops_?!" Ronald asked, voice breaking slightly, which made Harry snigger and lose concentration with the light and lose it.

"Oops."

"Well you weren't exactly a smooth criminal about this, Ron. I mean, you didn't even secure the security guard. You probably called him." Dean said, just as Harry managed to get a light again, looking at Dean sheepishly.

"Well I didn't think—"

"Big surprise." Harry muttered sarcastically.

"Hang on, hang on. Let's just take a breath here for a second, all right? They've probably got us surrounded." Dean said, making Ronald look around nervously. "They cut the power to the cameras, so there's no way of telling who the shapeshifter is. It's not looking good, Ron." Dean suddenly stopped, turning to glare at Harry when he walked into him. "Do you hear that?"

--

"Has your brother always been so... wonderful? I mean... staring down that gun. And you know, the way he played right into that psycho's crazy head, telling him what he wanted to here. He's like a real hero or something."

"Yeah... yeah." Sam muttered, annoyed that he was left alone with her. The vault suddenly opened and Dean walked in, Harry following closely behind him holding a ball of light, which blinked out when he noticed all the people in the vault.

"Oh my God! You saved us! You saved us!" Sherri exclaimed, fawning over Dean who held a gun.

"Actually, I just found a few more. Come on, everybody, let's go!" Dean shouted as more people entered the vault.

"What are you doing?" Sherri asked, looking at Dean in shock.

"Sam, Ronald and I need to talk to you." Sam nodded and left the vault with Harry and Dean following behind him. Dean locked the vault behind them and sighed. "Its shed its skin again. We don't know when. Could be in the halls, could be in the vault."

"Great. You know, Dean, you _are_ wanted by the police."

"Yeah."

"So even if we do find this damn thing, how the hell are we gonna get out of here?" Sam asked, leaning against the vault door.

Dean chuckled. "Yeah."

"So, even if we do find this damn thing, how the hell are we gonna get out of here?"

"I don't know, one problem at a time. All right, I'm gonna do a sweep of the whole place to see if I can find any stragglers. Once we get everyone together, we've gotta play a little game of 'Find the Freak'. So, here – I found another one of there for you." He handed Sam a silver letter opener. "Now, stay here. Make sure Ronald doesn't hurt anybody. Help him manage the situation."

"Help him _manage?_ Are you insane?"

Dean glanced over at Ronald who was overhearing their conversation. He winked at Ronald and gave him a thumbs-up. Dean then turned back to Harry and Sam and whispered. "Look, I know this isn't going the way we wanted it to—"

"Understatement!" Sam hissed, making Harry snigger at the situation and getting a glare from both of the brothers.

"But, if we invite the cops in right now, Ronald gets arrested, we get arrested, the shifter gets away. We'll probably never find it again, okay?" Sam gestured and Dean turned to see Ronald raising his rifle. "Ron! Out of the light!" Ronald moved and Dean sighed.

"Seriously!?"

"Yeah, Ron's game play was a bad plan. I mean, it was a bit of a crazy plan, but right now, crazy's the only game in town, okay?" Dean said before leaving. Sam looked over at Ronald and groaned.

"Hi Ronald." Sam deadpanned.

--

Later, Sam and Ronald unlocked the vault to give the hostages a bit of fresh air at the suggestion of Harry.

"I'm gonna keep this open. Get you folks some fresh air in there, all right? But no one leaves this vault." Sam told them, just as the phone rang. Ronald walked over to it.

"I don't understand. Why are you helping him?" Sherri asked Sam.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Hello?" Ronald answered the phone much to Sam and Harry's disbelief.

"I think I've gotta get out of here!" The security guard said, breathing heavily.

"Sit, I'm very sorry, but you're just gonna have to stay put, all right?"

"What? What do you mean, 'demands'?"

"Ronald! Hang up!"

"Ron!" Harry groaned, slapping his forehead.

"No, I'm not a bank robber, I—"

"I gotta really get out of here!"

"Sir, you can't leave."

"This is a farce."

"I'm kind of a crime-fighter, I guess."

"Ronald!" Sam hissed, he glanced back to the vault, where the employees were trying to help the security guard breathe. Sam hurried over to Ronald.

"No, I'm acting alone." Sam grabbed the phone and hung up.

"Ronald, the less the cops know, the better."

A male employee, Sampson, called out from the vault. "Hey! I think this dude's having a heart attack!"

"Great! Could be our guy, could be a trick." Sam said to Ronald.

"Are you just gonna le the man die?"

"No one's dying in here!" Sam shouted, before turning to Ronald, "Cover the door." Sam told him as he picked up the phone.

"Who are you calling?" Harry asked, not moving from the vault door.

"Who do you think? The pizza delivery?!" Sam asked incredulously, making Harry blush. "Hello? Um... we need some help."

"_Can you tell me how many hostages this guy's taken?"_

"Look, one of the people in here could be having heart trouble. You need to send in a paramedic."

"_Just stay calm, sir, we'll have you folks out of there in—"_

"Just send in a paramedic, okay? And don't try anything else! Please."

"A paramedic? We don't have time for that, man." Sampson called out.

"Look, I'm sorry. I am. But nobody's getting out." Ronald told them from the door he was watching from.

"He's dying right in front of you."

"Oh pssht! No he's not. He's just in pain." Harry said in a bored tone.

"Come on man, you've gotta unlock the front door. We've gotta get him out of here."

Ronald cocked hi rifle and looked at them both. "Both of you stay where you are!"

Dean returned to the vault and walked over to Sam. "I know who the shapeshifter is. It's that Sampson guy." He whispered to Sam, who nodded and made eye contact with Harry as though to try and tell him mentally whom the shifter was.

"You know what, Ronald? He's right. We've gotta get this man outside." Sam said, then turned to the security guard. "Come on, I've got you."

"Yeah, I'll help you." 'Sampson' said enthusiastically.

"No, I've got him. It's cool. Thanks."

"Thank you." The security guard wheezed.

"Sure." Sam led the security guard out of the vault. Dean glared at the shapeshifter and Harry looked at them knowingly.

"Hey can I talk to you for a second?" Dean asked Sampson, confirming what Harry had suspected.

"You've got the gun, man. Whatever." Sampson suddenly punched Dean, knocking him into Harry, who fell down under the weight. The shapeshifter then ran away.

"Stop! Come back here!" Ronald shouted, running after the shapeshifter, following him into the lobby. He stopped running, realising that the shapeshifter was too fast. Sam then noticed a red laser target appear on Ronald's back, coming from a S.W.A.T. member's gun just outside the door.

"Get down! Now!" Sam yelled, but Harry noticed Becky appear beside Ronald. She glanced at Harry and locked eyes with him, giving him a sad look and then swept her hand across Ronald's shoulder just as the glass of the bank door shattered and the bullet went straight through Ronald. Dean, Sam and Harry watched in shock as Ronald's body fell to the ground and Becky disappeared with a soul following behind her.

Sam and Harry joined Dean behind one of the counters, trying to avoid the windows. Well Sam was avoiding the windows, Harry didn't seem to bother.

"Here. Take care of the guard. I'm going after the shifter. Harry stay with Dean."

"What? Why?"

"Just stay here."

"Fine." Harry said, sulking and crossing his arms over his chest. Watching Sam leave him behind.

Dean glanced over at Ronald's body. "Sorry, Ron. You did a real good job tracking this thing you really did." He grabbed Ronald's rifle, looked at the body sadly, and then left. Harry making himself visible only to Dean.

Dean then turned and led the security guard to the doors, Harry following close behind him.

"This will all be over soon. Everything's gonna be all right."

"Don't shoot! Don't shoot!" The security guard shouted, watching as the S.W.A.T. team began cocking their rifles.

"No, no, no! Don't even think about it!" Dean looked around and noticed just how many police cars and helicopters were surrounding them. He glanced at Harry, worried. "I said get back, now!"

Dean let the security guard go and then stepped back into the bank, locking the doors and then tying them with the cord Sam gave him. He then sighed and turned to face Harry. "We are so screwed."

--

Dean and Harry were sitting in the lobby when Dean's phone began to ring. Dean glanced at Harry and then answered his phone. "It's Sam. Yeah?"

"_Slipped its skin."_

"What?"

"_Yeah, bastard shifts fast. A lot faster than the one in St Louis."_

"God, it's like playing the Shell Game. It could be anybody, again!"

"_I think most of the employees are out of the vault by now."_

"All right, you search every inch of this place. I'm gonna go round everybody up." Dean said, hanging up and turning to Harry. "The shifter's changed again. Are you sure you can't sense who it is?"

"I'm sure. It's just not something I was taught I didn't go after shifters. I went after humans and wizards or witches." Harry said with a sigh.

"Well nothing to do about it now. We have to search for the hostages."

"Yeah, I'm betting they left the vault as soon as they got the chance."

--

When they had found all the hostages, they led them back to the vault and ushered them inside.

"And I thought you were one of the good guys." Sherri said, looking at Dean in a hurt way, which made Harry snigger.

"What's your name?"

"Why would you care?"

"My name's Dean."

"I'm Sherri."

"Hi Sherri." The sound of the phone ringing interrupted them and Dean glanced at it. "Everything's gonna be all right. This will all be over soon, okay?" Dean said as he closed the vault door and sighed before answering the phone. "Yeah?"

"_This is Special Agent Victor Henricksen."_

"Yeah, listen, I'm not really in a negotiating mood right now, so –"

"_Good, me neither. It's my job to bring you in. Alive's a bonus but not necessary."_

"Whoa. That's kind of harsh for a Federal Agent, don't you think?"

"_Well, you're not the typical suspect, are you, Dean? I want you and Sam out here, unarmed, or we come in. And yes, I know about Sam, too – Bonnie to your Clyde."_

"Yeah, well, that part's true, but how'd you even know we were here?"

"_Go screw yourself, that's how I knew. It's become my job to know about you, Dean. I've been looking for you for weeks now. I know about the murder in St. Louis, I know about the Houdini act you pulled in Baltimore. I know about the desecrations and the thefts. I know about your Dad."_

"You don't know crap about my dad."

"_Ex-Marine, raised his kids on the road – cheap motels, backwood cabins, real paramilitary survivalist type. I just can't get a handle on what type of wacko he was. White supremist, Timmy McVeigh, to-may-to, to-mah-to."_

"You've got no right talking about my dad like that. He was a hero."

"_Yeah, right. Sure sounds like it. You have one hour to make a decision or we come through those doors, full automatic."_ Dean hung up the phone and sighed, looking at Harry.

"We have an hour before they come in guns blazing." Dean told him with a sigh.

"Ah. Let's hope Sam finds our shifter then."

"He's quite possibly in the vault."

"True, but there is no way of knowing."

"Shame you didn't learn how to sense them."

"I know, never thought I'd be in this situation though."

"You know the strange thing?" Dean asked, leaning on the desk.

"What?"

"He never mentioned you. How come? You were arrested with us, why didn't he know about you?"

"No idea. Maybe Hank did something, after all a reaper can't be wanted." Harry said with a shrug.

"Are you visible now?"

"Only to you."

"Not even Sam?" Dean asked, stunned.

"Nope. When he comes back I'll appear to him." Harry said with a smile.

--

Dean and Harry were standing outside the vault in silence when Sam came and found them.

"Hey." Sam told him, looking around for Harry, who made himself appear to Sam.

"Hey. We've got a bit of a problem outside."

"We've got a problem in here." Sam told him. They walked over to the vault and opened it.

"Sherri? We're gonna let you go."

"What? Why me?"

"Uh, it's a show of good faith to the Feds. Come on."

"Uh... I think I'd rather stay here with the others." Sherri told them, unsure.

"I'm afraid I'm gonna have to insist."

After a long pause, she agreed to go with them. They then dragged her to the office where Sam found her body.

"I thought you were letting me go." Sherri said before she noticed what was on the floor and began to scream and thrash.

"Is that community theatre, or are you just naturally that good?" Dean asked, not noticing the frown on Harry's face.

"This is the last time you become anybody, ever." Sam said, raising his weapon.

"No! Oh God!" She suddenly collapsed on the floor. Dean and Sam exchanged a look, confused about what had just happened. They looked back and forth between the two bodies on the floor. Dean knelt down next to Sherri and shrugged, raising his weapon.

"Dean wait." Harry said suddenly, getting the attention of the two brothers. "Why would she faint? What's the advantage of that plan? I mean, fainting now wouldn't help it survive."

"Harry has a point." Sam said. The three then turned their attention back to the two bodies on the floor. All completely confused as to which one was the shifter.

"Huh." Dean moved over to the other corpse, wearing the nightgown when suddenly they heard glass shattering in the lobby. While they were distracted by the sound, the shapeshifter, who was believed to be Sherri's corpse, woke up. She grabbed Dean by the throat and began to fight with him. Meanwhile, the real Sherri, who was believed to be the shapeshifter, regained consciousness and saw Dean fighting with the shifter.

"Oh God! Oh God!" Sam helped her up and glanced at a fighting Dean and a nervous Harry.

"Get her out of here, now!" Sam, Harry and Sherri left, leaving Dean to deal with the shifter. The shifter then kicked Dean and ran away, whilst he was on the ground.

--

Leaving Sherri to be picked up by the S.W.A.T. team in the lobby, Sam and Harry made their way through the halls, suddenly getting cornered by two S.W.A.T members who had found them. Harry glanced at Sam and then walked over to the two men and with a whispered _Stupefy_, the two men collapsed on the floor.

"I love your voodoo."

"Its not voodoo!"

--

Dean fought with the shapeshifter in the hallway when he suddenly grabbed the shifter's arm n to pull the skin off.

"Gross."

Whilst he was distracted, the shifter kicked Dean in his privates. Their fight continues for a long while before he finally pinned her against the wall. He took the silver knife out and stabbed her with it. She groaned and slid down the wall, dead. Dean crouched down next to her until a man dressed in S.W.A.T gear entered the room. Dean looked up at him defeated.

--

Sam and Harry found Dean being guarded in a supply closet. Harry walked over to the guards and stunned them, watching dispassionately as they fell to the ground with a thud. Looking around themselves for more S.W.A.T members, they then opened the supply cupboard, shocking Dean, who helped them drag the bodies into the cupboard and then strip them of their uniforms.

They exit out the backdoor, Sam and Dean dressed in the uniforms. They reach the Impala and climb inside. They took their helmets off, breathing heavily. They looked exhausted to Harry.

Dean turned to face Sam and Harry and sighed. "We are so screwed." He said just as he started the car and drove out of the garage and away from the bank.

**A/N – Well here's another chapter! Tell me what you think; I do so love the reviews! Lol! I hope you enjoyed reading it!**


	14. Houses of the Holy

Chapter Thirteen – Houses of the Holy

"What do you think they're talking about?" Dean asked Sam as they watched Hank and Harry talking near the Impala.

"No idea. Maybe it has something to do with Harry's job." Sam said with a shrug as he looked out of the motel window next to Dean.

"But he told us he only has one more soul to reap."

"True, maybe Hank is telling him how he isn't wanted anymore then."

"Huh. Think he'll tell us when he gets back?"

"Doubt it."

--

"You do know that he will have to be the one to agree to this, right?" Hank told Harry as he leant against the Impala, looking at Harry.

"Yeah, I know, just consider this a back up, alright?"

"Fine. Is there anything else you want?"

"Yeah, two things."

"Go on."

"The first, can you teach me how to recognise other creatures, like shifters and so on? I think I might need to know."

"Okay... What else?"

"I want to be a permanent reaper."

"What? What about Sam?"

"Look, it's not going to happen okay? And if it does, well... I suppose we'll have to cross that bridge when it comes."

"Alright but you do know that if you choose this, then you are going to have to actually start working again, right?"

"I know."

"Well, if I teach you how to recognise other beings, then take their souls as well. It will now be your job to take the souls of those the brothers have killed."

"Can I kill them to help?"

"You know reapers are only allowed to take souls and not cause physical deaths." Hank reminded him, glancing past him at the two brothers watching them.

"I know that, but as your favourite I thought maybe I could be given some leeway. Look, I feel completely helpless with those two! Let me do something so that I can help!"

"Fine. I'll look the other way should you have to kill, just... only do it should there be no other choice, otherwise just let one of those two do the killing and you stick with the reaping."

"Okay. Deal. So what do we do now?"

"Now I turn you into a full reaper. All your senses will be returned to you and you will be able to sense more souls and when their time is up, like before you started this road trip."

"Right. So I'm going to know when everyone we meet will die?"

"If you wish to see it, then yes. I would recommend not checking with the two you are with though. You know you cannot change fate, so don't do it."

"I won't."

"Promise me."

"Fine."

"Say it."

"Fine, I promise not to look to see when the Winchester brothers will die."

"Thank you."

"No problem. You know I wouldn't have looked anyway." Harry told him with a slight sulk.

"I know. Now, stay still." Hank said, and then he placed his hands on either side of Harry's head and then closed his eyes. Harry gasped as he felt power rush through him and let his head drop forward when Hank let go of him. "Try your magic. It may have finally left you."

"What?!" Harry shrieked, before he visibly calmed himself down and then held out his hand and thought of the ball of light he wanted to create. To his relief it appeared on his palm and he let it go again. "Couldn't you have told me I might have lost my magic?"

"No. Now, you should be able to detect the difference between souls now and of course, you will know when things will be dying. You will need this." Hank told him, handing him a blackberry phone.

"What's this for?" Harry asked, taking the phone and looking at it curiously.

"The souls you will be reaping will appear in there. It's a new thing I thought up of a couple of weeks ago. It will be like receiving a text message. It will give you the same details that you would have received on the old post-it notes."

"Ah. Thanks. I guess."

"You chose this."

"I know. Thank you, really." Harry said with a grateful smile at Hank and Hank smiled back at him and pressed a kiss to his forehead before he glanced back at the motel and then disappeared. Harry looked at where Hank had been for a few seconds before he sighed and made his way back to the motel room. He entered and was immediately pounced on by Dean.

"What did he do? Why did you glow? What's he done?" Dean demanded to know, standing in front of him with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Relax. He did nothing I didn't ask him to do." Harry told him, walking past him and sitting down on Sam's bed.

"What did he do?"

"He turned me into a full reaper."

"A full reaper? You mean you weren't one before?" Sam asked him curiously.

"Not really. Well I was, but I had a limit on souls. Now I don't. I'm now a permanent reaper." Harry told them with a shrug.

"Huh? Why'd you do that?" Dean asked him with a frown.

"Because otherwise I'm pretty useless to you two. Now I can sense different souls. I can take said souls. In fact, it's now my job to take the souls of those you two kill. And now I can kill as well."

"You mean you couldn't before?" Sam asked him, looking confused.

"Exactly. Reapers only take souls of those that are destined to die, they're not actually allowed to kill. Hank has said he will look the other way should I need to kill. Why do you think I've never actually killed anyone on these hunts?"

"Never gave it much thought." Dean admitted with a shrug.

"Well now you know. So where are we going next?"

--

Sam and an invisible Harry walked into a mental health institution, under the guise of being a doctor, and going to a woman who looked completely peaceful and serene. Sam glanced at his clipboard and smiled at her.

"Good morning. You're not the usual guy."

"No, just filling in. So, how are you feeling today, Gloria?"

"I've never felt better." Gloria told him with a smile.

"So.... no disturbances lately?"

"You are a rubbish psychiatrist Sam."

"You mean, am I stark-raving cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs?"

Harry laughed and nudged Sam's shoulder. "She's kinda funny."

"I didn't say that."

"That's all right. I know what people must think." Gloria said with a smile.

"What do _you_ think?"

"I think what I saw was real." Gloria told him. Sam sat down across from her and smiled encouragingly.

After a long pause, wherein Harry looked at the woman closely. "I'd like to know what you saw."

"It was all over the news. I stabbed a man in the heart."

"She's got style."

"Why would you do that?"

"Because it was God's will."

"Did God talk to you."

"Pfft. I doubt it." Harry said, scornfully.

"I get the sense God's a little busy for house calls. No, He... He sent someone."

"Someone?"

"An angel. It came to me in this beautiful, white light. And it filled me with this feeling. It's hard to describe."

"An angel? They're real?" Harry asked, gaping at the woman on the bed.

"And this angel...?"

"Spoke God's word."

"And the word was to kill someone?" Harry and Sam both asked incredulously.

"I know, it sounds strange. But what I did was very important. I helped Him smite an evil man. I was chosen for redemption."

"This man you stabbed – did the angel give you his name?"

"No. He just told me to wait for the sign, and the very next day I saw it. Right beside the man's doorway. And I knew."

"Wonder what the sign was." Harry muttered, moving so that he could look at the woman closely.

"Why him?"

"I just know what the angel told me – that this man was guilty to his deepest foundations. And that was good enough for me."

--

Sam and Harry returned to the motel where they had left Dean and entered the room they had rented. Dean was lying on a bed that was vibrating, much to Harry's curiosity, and listening to music. He hadn't seemed to have noticed them enter the room and Harry and Sam just looked at him, slightly stunned.

"What's he doing?" Harry asked, looking at Dean and the bed curiously and walking over to it, whilst Sam just rolled his eyes and walked over to Dean, smacking his leg to get his attention.

"Hey!" Sam yelled when Dean jumped and looked up at him, he took his earphones out and grinned at them.

"Hey. Man, you've gotta try this. I mean, there really is magic in the Magic Fingers." Dean told him grinning widely.

"Er... no there isn't. No magic. Nope." Harry told him, touching the still vibrating bed cautiously and then pulling his hand back as though burnt, much to the amusement of the brothers.

"Dean... you're enjoying that way too much. It's kind of making me uncomfortable." Sam told him, shifting slightly where he stood, whilst Harry moved away from the clearly possessed bed and moved to stand next to Sam.

"What am I supposed to do? You've got me on lockdown here, I'm bored out of my skull." Dean moaned, shifting to get more comfortable on the bed.

"Hey, you were the bank robber on the eleven o'clock news, not me. We can't risk you just walking into a government facility." Sam told him with a frown.

"Mm." Dean muttered with a frown. Sam just shrugged and then walked into the bathroom, leaving Harry to watch the bed cautiously without Sam standing between them. The bed suddenly stopped vibrating and Dean frowned. "Aw, damn it. That was my last quarter." Dean grumbled, he then turned to Harry, seeming to wonder something, which made the reaper twitch and then shook his head. "Hey! You got any quarters?" Dean called looking at the bathroom.

"No!" Sam shouted through the door. Harry grinned and walked over to the bathroom and entered without opening the door, which made Sam jump and then glare at him. "Use a door like normal people, would ya?"

"Why? This way is so much more fun. 'Specially when I can make the big bad hunter jump." Harry told him with a grin, which widened when Sam glared at him.

"Why are you in here anyway? Haven't you heard of privacy?" Sam asked him, washing his hands.

"Sure I have, I just decide to ignore it. Think we need to send Dean to rehab?" Harry asked with a grin, getting an amused look from Sam.

"Says the reaper scared of a bed?"

"Hey! It's creepy!"

"With the way Dean is enjoying it, I have to agree. You okay?" Sam asked him suddenly, making Harry look at him in shock.

"Why do you ask?"

"You've been picking less fights with Dean recently, I just wondered what was wrong."

"Nothing's wrong. Not really."

"I had a question to ask you by the way."

"Go ahead."

"Ages ago, you told me and Dean that if you found love, you would be returned to being a human. Will that still happen?'

"I don't think I worded it like that, but in any case. No. it won't happen still. I've pretty much signed a binding contract now that says I will forever be a reaper. There are only five of us that are permanent reapers. Every other reaper has a deadline... and a way out."

"So why do it?"

"I told you, it was the only way I could see that would be of help to you two."

"You gave up a chance of being human again for us?" Sam asked him incredulously as he dried his hands and walked to the door.

"Of course. Sam, I'll do whatever I can to keep you two safe and happy." Harry told him with a smile, leaning up to press a kiss to a shocked Sam's cheek and then walking through the wall once more.

"So, did you get in to see that crazy hooker?" Dean asked once Sam had come out of the bathroom, still looking a bit dazed, which made Harry hide a smile.

"Yeah... Uh, Gloria Sytnik. And I'm not so sure she's crazy." Sam told him, shaking his head slightly.

"She seriously believes she was touched by an angel?"

"Huh, you make it sound quite perverted." Harry told him with a grin, sitting cross legged on Sam bed and causing both brothers to look at him incredulously.

"No I never!"

"Yeah, you did. Touched by an angel? She might have a case against the pervy celestial being."

"Dude, you're twisted." Dean told him before looking back at Sam expectantly.

"He's right Harry, that's twisted. Anyway, yeah. Blinding light, feelings of spiritual ecstasy, the works. I mean, she's living in a locked ward, and she's totally at peace." Sam told him.

"Oh, yeah, you're right. Sounds completely sane. What about the dude she stabbed?" Dean asked them.

"Carl Gulley." Harry told them, picking at the cover on the bed.

"Yeah, said she killed him 'cause he was evil." Sam told him, moving over to sit next to Harry on the bed.

"Was he?"

"I don't know. I couldn't find any dirt on him. I mean, he didn't have a criminal record, he worked at the campus library, he had lots of friends, he was a churchgoer."

"Which doesn't actually mean anything in favour of him." Harry pointed out, shifting slightly so that he was leaning on Sam.

"Hm. So, then Gloria's just your standard-issue wacko. I mean, she wouldn't be the first nut job in history to kill in the name of religion, know what I mean?"

"No, but she's the second in town to murder because an angel told them to. Little bit odd, don't you think?" Sam pointed out.

"Well, odd, yes. Supernatural, maybe. But angels? I don't think so."

"I agree with Dean, which is shockingly happening more and more." Harry muttered under his breath, much to Sam's amusement. "Still, in all my time with the supernatural, I've never heard of angels actually being real. Never. You'd think I would have come across one or two in my time. Of course, we could ask Hank. He's sure to know."

"We'll leave that option until we have no other choice. I don't think they exist though." Dean said with finality.

"Dean, there's ten times as much lore about angels as there is about anything else we've ever hunted."

"Even demons?" Harry asked in shock

"Yeah."

"Yeah, and you know what, there's a ton of lore on unicorns, too. In fact, I hear that they ride on silver moon beams, and they shoot rainbows outta their ass."

"No they don't. They crap like any other being. They're kinda overrated actually." Harry told them, getting shocked looks from the brothers.

"You're telling me unicorns exist?" Dean asked him incredulously.

"Yep. A herd of them lived in the forest by my school. They seemed to like me quite a bit. Dunno why. Though the fact I was a virgin probably helped." Harry admitted with a shrug, grinning at the two stunned hunters.

"I don't... Seriously?" Dean asked incredulously.

"Yep. Back to the angels though, no proof they exist." Harry told them and Dean shook his head, whilst Sam just smiled.

"You don't believe in angels but you believe in unicorns?" Sam asked him incredulously.

"No, I _know_ unicorns exist, I've seen them with my own two eyes. Dragons too now that we're on the subject. In all my time, I've never seen an angel and I've never met anyone who has either and I've reaped a lot of souls and spoken with a lot of old reapers. Including Death himself."

"Fine. So you don't believe this is an angel then? Neither of you?" Sam asked, looking between the two.

"Nope."

"No, look, this is a demon or spirit. They find people a few fries short of a Happy Meal and they trick them into killing these randoms." Dean told him.

"Maybe."

"Can we just – I'm going stir-crazy, man. Hey, let's go by Gloria's apartment, huh?" Dean asked, sitting up on the bed and turning to face them.

"We were just there – nothing. No sulfur, no EMF." Sam told him with a scoff.

"You didn't see any fluffy, white wing feathers?" Dean asked with a grin, making Harry chuckle.

"But Gloria did say the angel gave her a sign. Right beside Carl Gulley's doorway." Sam told him, standing up form the bed and causing Harry to lose his balance and fall to the side.

"Could be something at his house. It's worth checking out." Dean told them and stood up from the bed to stand next to Sam. Harry sighed and pushed himself up, before he climbed over the other side of the bed and got up, waiting for the two by the door.

--

They pulled up outside of Carl Gulley's house and looked at the building for ay kind of sign. Not seeing anything, they all climb out of the car and begin to walk around the house and up to the doorway.

"Oh, hey, you two. I think I found it." Dean called over to them, making them stop and look back at Dean, where he was pointing to a plastic angel decoration on the porch. "That's a sign form up above." Dean said and they all looked around the house but didn't find anything else. "Well, I think I've learned a valuable lesson. Always take down your Christmas decorations after New Year's, or you might get fillered by a hooker from God. Ha!"

"I'm laughing on the inside." Sam told him dryly, glancing at Harry when he chuckled and then shook his head. "You know, Gloria said the guy was guilty to his deepest foundations."

"You think she literally meant the foundation?" Dean asked and Sam shrugged then walked over to the cellar door and opened it. Harry and Dean followed him, Dean bumping into Harry when the latter stopped suddenly and stiffened. "You okay?"

"People have died down here. Painfully. Slowly. Three, maybe four people. Don't know the gender though. They were scared though. And lonely." Harry told him in a far away voice, eyes slightly glazed. Dean just stared at him in shock.

"You can tell all this from a room?"

"They've left some of their essence behind. Possibly in the hope someone would discover it and help them to move on fully. They weren't very old." Harry told him, eyes suddenly coming back into focus and looking around the room sadly. "It was murder."

"How do you know that? I mean, I could have probably guessed that much from what you said, but you sound certain."

"I know it was murder. Becky was the reaper that took the souls. I can still sense her presence, which means the last one didn't die all that long ago." Harry told him and then continued to walk into the room, Dean following behind him and they walked over to where Sam was kneeling on the floor and looking at a wall closely with a frown.

"Hey." He called over to them, making them walk over to him quicker.

"You got something? 'Cause so does your little reaper." Dean told him, which made Harry blush and Sam look at him curiously.

"Yeah, I found a fingernail. What did you find?" Sam asked, whilst Harry was frowning and his eyes went glazed once more. He ignored what Sam asked him and walked over to where a shovel was leant against the wall. He picked it up and walked back over to the other tow, and then, almost mechanically, he began to dig at the floor.

Sam and Dean looked at each other in confusion and then back to Harry, who seemed to have found what he was searching for as he dropped the shovel to the floor and then dropped to his knees. He looked up at Sam, eyes still unfocused, and held up a skull fro him to see.

"So much for the innocent, churchgoing librarian." Sam muttered, whilst Harry gasped and then shook his head.

"That was creepy. What the hell was that about? It was like I was possessed or something." Harry told them weakly, putting the skull back down and then standing up shakily.

"You're telling us." Dean muttered, frowning.

--

Harry was sitting on Sam's bed, hugging his knees to his body and chewing on his lip as he wondered what had happened to him back at Gulley's house. Dean was sitting on his own bed, occasionally throwing him a concerned glance before looking back at the Magic Fingers timer longingly. Sam entered the motel room a few minutes later and looked at the two before sighing.

"Did you bring quarters?" Dean asked him immediately, getting Harry to crack a smile and Sam glanced at the timer.

"Dude, I'm not enabling your sick habit. You're like one of those lab rats that pushes the pleasure button instead of the food button until it dies." Sam told him, getting a chuckle from Harry.

"What are you talking about? I eat. And I've got news."

"Me too." Sam said, making Harry look up at him and stretch his legs out in front of him.

"All right, you go first." Dean told him.

"Three students have disappeared off the college campus this year. All of them were last seen at the library." Sam told them as he took a seat on his bed next to Harry's legs.

"Where Carl Gulley worked?" Dean asked.

"Yup."

"Sick bastard."

"It's always the ones you least expect." Harry told him with a shake of his head.

"So, Gloria's angel—"

"Not an angel." Harry muttered, getting a glare from Sam.

"Okay, whatever this thing is –"

"Well, whatever it is, it struck again." Dean told him grimly.

"What?"

"I was listening to the police radio before you got here. There was this guys, Zach Smitt, some local drunk. He went up to a stranger's front door last night – stabbed him in the heart." Dean told him, getting a stunned look from Sam, whilst Harry just sighed and shifted on the bed.

"And then I'm guessing he went to the police and confessed?" Sam asked him, getting a nod from both Harry and Dean.

"Yep. Roma Downey made him do it. Now, I uh..." Dean stood up and pulled a post-it note off the mirror. "I got the victim's address." Dean told him with a shrug, looking at Harry questioningly when he grinned at the post-it note. "What?"

"Nothing, well just... Hank used to send his reapers post-it notes with the name of their next reap and the place and time of death."

"Used to?" Sam asked, looking at him curiously.

"Yeah, now we each have one of these." Harry said, pulling out the Blackberry from his pocket and showed it to the brother's. Sam took it from him and looked at it.

"It doesn't have a signal. Or a phone company."

"Well it wouldn't would it? It's not to be used like a normal phone, though your two's numbers are in there so I can contact you with it. Dunno what would show up on your side though as I don't have a number."

"You don't have a number? How does it work then?' Sam asked, still playing with the phone, whilst Dean walked over to them and looked at the phone in Sam's hands.

"Honestly? No idea. For example, I didn't have to enter your two's numbers, just your names. It will ring whatever phone you two have on you. I also have Hank's name in it and a couple of other reapers that I used to talk to occasionally." Harry told them, grinning when this caused Sam to scroll through his phone book and then ring someone, though who Harry didn't catch as Sam moved the phone to his ear straight after.

"Hey Bobby, how are you? No, just checking something out. Yeah, we're fine. On a hunt. Yeah. Speak to you later." Sam said and then hung up and looked at the phone in shock.

"How did you get Bobby's number? We never gave it you." Dean said, looking slightly stunned.

"I told you, I only have to put the persons name in the phone book and it will ring the phone they have on them. It's magic." Harry told them with a grin.

"Can we get one of those phones?" Dean asked curiously, taking the phone out of Sam's hands and looking at it. "Hey, if we put Hugh Heffner into the phone book, will it ring him?"

"Why would you want to ring Hugh Heffner? And to get one of those, you'd have to be a reaper." Harry added, taking the phone back from Dean before he actually tried to ring Hugh Heffner.

"Get an invite to the playboy mansion." Dean told him with a grin, getting a roll of the eyes from Sam and Harry.

"Whatever. You're not using my phone for things like that. Yes I will ring people you don't have the number of should you think we will need it for a hunt, but not so that you can get laid."

"You're mean."

--

Harry walked through the walls of the victim's house and then unlocked the door to let Sam and Dean in, getting grins in thanks from them both.

"Useful." Dean noted, getting an amused smirk from Harry.

"It is rather. So what are we looking for?" Harry asked as he followed Sam through the house and walking into the mans office. Sam turned the computer on and then looked up when Dean walked back in from searching other rooms.

"Find anything?" Sam asked him, looking back at the computer screen and clicking on a file.

"Well, Frank liked his catalogue shopping, that's about all I got. You?" Dean asked, leaning against the wall next to Harry.

"Not much here. Except he's got this one locked file on his computer that I... hold on." Sam then pressed a few buttons on the keyboard and grinned as he successfully unlocked the password. "Not anymore." Sam then opened the file and stared at the screen in horror. "God..."

"What?" Harry and Dean asked at the same time, walking over to look at the screen from behind Sam.

"All these e-mails. Dozens, to this lady named Jennifer." Sam then leant forwards slightly to look at the e-mails closely. "This lady who's thirteen years old."

"Oh, I don't wanna hear this." Dean moaned, letting his head drop forwards. Harry looked at the screen with a frown and then shook his head in disgust.

"I've took my fair share of paedophiles' souls. I took pleasure in seeing the fear and horror on their faces. They're worse than most of the monsters you two hunt." Harry muttered, frowning.

"It looks like they met in a chatroom. These e-mails are pretty personal, you two. Look at that. Setting up a time and place to meet."

"Great." Dean muttered, still looking disgusted.

"They were supposed to meet today." Sam told them, scrolling through the messages.

"Huh. I guess if you're gonna stab someone... good timing. I don't know, man, this is weird. I mean, sure, some spirits are out for vengeance, but this one's almost a do-gooder. Like a..."

"Avenging angel?" Sam suggested, getting a snort from Harry, who just shook his head. "Well, how else do you explain it? Three guys, not connected to each other, all stabbed through the heart? At least two were world-class pervs, and I bet if you dug deep enough on the other guy—"

"Hey." Dean interrupted suddenly, getting the attention of the other two.

"What?" Sam asked, whilst Dean picked up a flyer from the desk.

"You said Carl Gulley was a churchgoer right?"

"Yeah."

"What was the name of his church?"

"Uh... Our Lady of the Angels?" Sam said, unsure.

"Of course that'd be the name." Dean muttered, showing them the flyer he was looking at, which advertised that very same church. "Looks like Frank went to the same church."

--

They arrived at the church later that day and entered, Harry glancing around him nervously and sticking close to Sam as they all walked over to the priest.

"Hi, we're new here and we were interested in joining the church." Dean said with a wide smile, getting a smaller smile from the priest, who glanced behind him at Sam and Harry curiously.

"I'm Father Reynolds, I'm the priest of this church. So, you're interested in joining the Parish?"

"Yeah, we just don't feel right unless we hit church every Sunday." Dean told him, still grinning widely, whilst Harry glanced to the side at the paintings on the walls, depicting angels and clung onto the back of Sam's jacket.

"Where did you say you lived before?" Father Reynolds asked, looking at Dean, whilst Sam looked down at Harry in concern.

"Premont, Texas."

"Yup." Sam agreed, turning back to face the father and smiling at him, whilst he reached behind him and untangled Harry's fingers from his jacket, letting Harry grab hold of his hand.

"Really? That's a nice town. St. Theresa's Parish, you must know the priest there." Father Reynolds said, glancing down once more at Harry, who was nibbling his lip and occasionally glancing back at the paintings.

"Sure, yeah. That's uh... Father O'Malley."

"I know a Father Shaughnessy." Father Reynolds said with a slight frown, making Dean look at him with wide eyes.

"Shaughnessy, exactly. What did I say?" Dean said, getting an almost silent chuckle from Harry.

"Is he okay?" Father Reynolds asked, looking at Harry once more, who jumped and looked at him startled.

"Er... he's fine. He doesn't really speak. Saw a murder once and well it changed him so we left to get a change of scenery. You know?" Dean said with an almost nervous smile, getting a sympathetic smile back from the Father.

"Shame. So young as well. It is good that he has you two to look after him. Well, we're happy to have you. We could use some young blood around here."

"Mm. Hey, listen, I've gotta ask you – no offence, but the neighbourhood?" Dean asked him.

"It's gone to seed a little, there's no denying that. But that's why what the church does here is so important. Like I always say, you can expect a miracle, but in the meantime, you work your butt off."

"Yeah, we heard about the murders." Dean said, looking around him slightly to try and see if he could see what had spooked their reaper.

"Yes. The victims were parishioners of mine, I've known them for years."

"And the killers said that an angel made them do that?" Sam asked him, trying to loosen Harry's grip on his hand discreetly.

"Yes, misguided souls. To think that God's messenger would appear and incite people to murder. It's tragic."

"So, you don't believe in those angel yarns, huh?" Dean asked, looking at Sam with an 'I told you so' look.

"Oh, no. I absolutely believe. It kind of goes with the job description."

"Father, that's Michael right?" Sam asked, pointing to the painting that seemed ot have spooked Harry the most.

"That's right. The Archangel Michael with the flaming sword – the fighter of demons, holy force against evil."

"So, they're not really the Hallmark card version that everybody thinks? They're fierce, right? Vigilant." Sam said, tugging his hand away from Harry's and clenching his fingers to try and get the feeling back in them, whilst Harry nibbled on his lip and moved away from the painting slightly.

"I like to think of them as more loving than wrathful. But, yes, a lot of Scripture paints angels as God's warriors. 'An angel of the Lord appeared to them. The glory of the Lord shone down upon them, and they were terrified.'" The Father quoted to them and Sam and Dean just looked at him in confusion.

"Luke 2:9" Harry practically whispered, getting the attention of the other three, who looked at him in shock, even the Father.

"Why yes. You know your scriptures." Father Reynolds said with a smile at him as he walked with them back to the doors. Harry just nodded at him and then glanced back at the painting, almost breathing a sigh of relief when they exited the church.

"Thank you for speaking with us, Father." Sam said, as they started to walk down the steps.

"It's my pleasure. I hope to see you again." He told them with a smile, Dean turned and noticed a small alter on the front steps.

"Hey, Father, what's all that for?"

"Oh, that's for Father Gregory. He was a priest here."

"Was?" Dean questioned with a frown.

"He passed away right on these steps. He's interred in the church crypt."

"When did this happen?" Dean asked him, whilst Harry wandered away from them and walked over to where the Father had been killed.

"Two months ago. He was shot fro his car keys." Father Reynolds told them with a sad shake of his head.

"I'm sorry." Sam told him, before glancing over at Harry, who was touching one of the petals.

"Yeah. Me, too. He was a good friend. I didn't even have time to administer his Last Rites. But like I said, it's a tough neighbourhood. Ever since he died, I've been praying my heart out."

"For what?" Sam asked him, whilst Harry stood back up and walked back over to them.

"For deliverance from the violence and the bloodshed around here. We could use a little divine intervention, I suppose."

"Well, Padre, thanks. We'll see you again." Father Reynolds nodded at them and then went back inside the church and closed the door behind him, whilst Dean bent down and picked up a picture of Father Gregory from the alter. "Now it's all starting to make sense. Devoted priest dies a violent death – that's vengeful spirit material, right there. And he knew all the other stiffs because they all went to church here. In fact, I'm willing to bet because he was their priest, he knew things about them that nobody else knew."

"Then again, Father Reynolds started praying for God's help about two months ago, right? Right about the time all this started happening." Sam said, as they began to walk back to the Impala, Harry still staying silent.

"Oh, come on, man. What's your deal?"

"What do you mean?" Sam asked him curiously.

"Look, I'll admit, I'm a bit of a sceptic. But since when are you all Mr _700 club_? Seriously, from the get-go, you've been willing to buy this angel crap, man. What's next? You gonna start praying everyday?"

"I do." Sam admitted after a pause, making Dean stop and look at him, while Harry tripped over his feet in shock and gaped at him.

"What?"

"I do pray everyday. I have for a long time." Sam told him, while Harry just continued to gape and Dean just looked taken aback.

"The things you learn about a guy. Huh. Come on, let's go check out Father Gregory's grave." Dean told them and walked away. Sam watched him go and then turned to look at Harry, who still looked a little shocked.

"What was wrong with you in the church? Can you not go into them or something? You should have said so if not." Sam told him as they both rushed to catch up with Dean as he entered a crypt.

"I'm allowed into churches. You think people don't die inside of them? Of course they do. I just don't like them. They give me the wiggins. A whole place to worship one almighty being that may or may not exist? It's creepy."

"Creepy? You think churches are creepy?"

"Yeah. So sue me." Harry grumbled as he and Sam followed behind Dean as he walked into another room in the crypt. Sam suddenly turned to look at a statue of an angel, whilst Harry looked at him in confusion, before looking back at the statue and gaping. "Sam... Sam!" Harry looked at him in shock when Sam just collapsed on the floor dragging Harry down with him as he tried to catch him.

Dean chose that moment to walk back out of the room and looked at them in shock, before running over to them.

"Sammy? Sam!" Dean exclaimed, shaking Sam, whilst Harry stroked his hair in worry. Sam groaned and opened his eyes slowly. "Hey! You okay?"

"Sam?" Harry asked in concern, glancing back at the statue before looking at Sam, who struggled briefly and then sat up.

"I'm okay."

"Come on." Dean said, helping Sam stand up and then holding out a hand to help up a shocked Harry. "You saw it, didn't you? Didn't you?' Dean asked, looking at Sam and then Harry, who shook his head negatively.

"Nope, I saw something, but not an angel."

"Yeah. Dean, I saw an angel." Sam said, ignoring Harry, who just huffed and then walked over to Father Gregory's grave and traced the vines growing over it. "I don't wanna drink."

"God I do. This day just never seems to end." Harry groaned, not looking at the brothers, instead seeming entranced by the vines.

"So... what makes you think you saw an angel?" Dean asked, even as he walked over to Harry and handed him his flask, getting a grateful, amused grin from Harry.

"It just... it appeared before me and I just... this feeling washed over me, you know? Like peace... like grace." Sam told him, with a slight awed tone to his voice, which made Harry snort as he handed Dean back his flask.

"Okay, Ecstasy Boy. Maybe we'll get you some glowsticks and a nice Dr. Seuss hat, huh?" Dean told him, placing the flask back in his pocket and grinning.

"Dean, I'm serious. It spoke to me, it knew who I was."

"It's just a spirit, Sam. And it's not the first one to be able to read people's minds. Let me guess, you were personally chosen to smite some sinner. You've just gotta wait for some divine Bat Signal, is that it?" Dean asked him with an amused smirk, Harry just chuckled and shook his head, whilst pulling a leaf off of the vine and sniffing it.

"Yeah, actually." Sam told them, making Harry spin around and gape at him once more.

"Great. I don't suppose you asked what this alleged bad guy did."

"Actually, I did, Dean. And the angel told me he hasn't done anything. Yet. But he will." Sam told him, and Harry just scoffed and then turned his attention back to the vines.

"Oh this is just – I don't believe this." Dean said, chuckling and shaking his head.

"Dean, the angel hasn't been wrong yet! Someone's gonna do something awful, and I can stop it!" Sam told him passionately, making Harry just roll his eyes and then turn to slump against the wall.

"You know, you're supposed to be bad, too, Sam. Maybe I should just stop you right now."

"You know what, Dean, I don't understand! Why can't you even consider the possibility?" Sam asked him.

"What, that this is an angel?" Dean asked him back, and Harry just rolled his eyes and slumped down so that he was sitting on the ground.

"Yes! Maybe we're hunting an angel here, and we should stop! Maybe this is God's will!"

"Okay, all right. You know what? I get it. You've got faith. Hey, good for you. I'm sure it makes things easier. I'll tell you who else had faith like that – Mom. She used to tell me when she's tuck me in that angels were watching over us. In fact, that was the last thing she ever said to me." Dean told him wit a sad smile and a shake of his head.

"If it makes you feel any better, the last thing I remember my mum ever saying is 'Not Harry! Please! Take me instead! Not Harry!' Of course, she died pretty soon after. No idea if she believed in God though. I doubt it, my aunt Petunia didn't and she was her sister." Harry said, shrugging when the brother's turned to look at him in shock and slight horror at his memory.

"You remember that?" Sam asked him quietly.

"Yeah. It was a bitch facing Dementors. Creepy wraiths that suck all happiness from you and make you relive your worst memories." Harry told them with a shrug. Sam just looked at him steadily for a few seconds before he looked back at Dean, who didn't know whether to look at Harry or Sam.

"We're not dealing with an angel Sammy. You got proof? 'Cause I do – proof that we're dealing with a spirit." Dean said, moving to stand next to where Harry sat and picked up one of the vines.

"That looks like—"

"Wormwood. It's used in quite a few potions, most notoriously Draught of Living Death. Works because it is a plant that is associated with the dead, more specifically the ones that are not at rest." Harry told him, playing with the leaf in his hands.

"I don't see it growing anywhere else, except over the murdered priest's marker. It's him, Sam." Dean told him, whilst Harry dropped the leaf and stood up, brushing himself down.

"Maybe."

"Maybe?" Dean and Harry echoed, before looking at each other incredulously.

"Dean, Harry, I don't know what to think."

"Okay. You want some more proof? I'll give you more proof." Dean told him, moving to stand next to Sam, who watched him.

"How?"

"We'll summon Gregory's spirit."

"What? Here, in the church?" Sam asked him incredulously.

"Yeah. We just need a few odds and ends, and that séance ritual in Dad's journal." Dean added in a slightly absent voice as he tried to think of what he would need.

"Ha! A séance, great. I hope Whoopi's available." Sam said, getting a glare from Dean, whilst Harry just watched them in amusement.

"That's funny, actually. Seriously. If Father Gregory's spirit is around, the séance will bring him right to us. If it's him, then we'll put him to rest."

"But if it's an angel, it won't show. Nothing will happen."

"Exactly. That's one of the perks of the job, Sam. We don't have to operate on faith. We can know for sure. Don't you wanna know for sure?"

--

Dean and Sam left a convenience store with shopping bags in their arms and walked over to where Harry was leaning against the Impala, waiting for them. Harry watched as they bitched to one another about something, then Sam stopped suddenly and looked at a man across the street from them, making Harry look over at him as well.

Seeing nothing suspicious, Harry turned and pushed off of the car to walk over to Sam, wondering what was going on.

"That's the sign." Sam told Dean just as Harry reached them, making him look back over at the man in confusion.

"I don't see anything." Harry told them once he reached their side.

"That's him, guys. We have to stop him." Sam told them and then went to cross the road, but Harry grabbed the back of his jacket, whilst Dean grabbed his arm to stop him.

"Wait a minute!" Dean told him, glancing over at the man.

"What are you doing? Let me go."

"You're not gonna go kill somebody because a ghost told you to. Are you insane?" Dean asked him in shock.

"Dean, I'm not insane. I'm not gonna kill him, I'm gonna stop him." Sam told him, shaking Dean off his arm, but Harry just rolled his eyes and then grabbed Sam and spun him around to face him, shocking them both with his show of strength.

"Look Sam, I understand that you want to go and do God's will or whatever, but think about it for a second. Right now, that man is innocent of everything he might do. You can't go off killing people just because something told you to do it. It's not you Sammy. You can't just kill people for the hell of it. Besides, I've received no message telling me to take his soul. I get the souls of your kills remember? You can't kill him."

"Harry, I wasn't going to kill him. I said that. I just want to stop him before he hurts someone. I can't let him do that."

"Heroic, really. But how are you going to stop him? What are you going to do?"

"Please! Both of you! He's gonna hurt someone, you know it!" Sam pleaded, looking between the two, who looked at one another. Dean just shrugged and Harry sighed and let go of Sam.

"Alright, come on." Dean said, getting in the car. The other two follow and find that the doors are locked.

"Dean, unlock the doors." Sam demanded, tugging at the door handle.

"You're not killing anyone, Sam. I've got this guy, you go do the séance." Dean told them, and Harry nodded, pulling at Sam's arm.

"Dean!" Sam yelled as Dean drove away from them to follow the man.

"Come on Sam. Let's get to the church and do the séance. What are you gonna do otherwise, huh? Dean's drove off with the car. Come on." Harry said as he tugged a reluctant Sam behind him. Sam sighed and then began to walk normally, following behind Harry.

--

Sam and Harry knelt down in front of Father Gregory's grave, setting up the séance, well Sam was setting up the séance, Harry was in fact pocketing some vines of wormwood. After Sam had lit the candles, he began to read several Latin chants from his father's journal. Harry watched him as he then sprinkled a powdery substance onto one of the candles, making it spark. The doors to the crypt suddenly opened with a bang and Father Reynolds entered.

"What are you doing? What is this?" Father Reynolds asked, as Sam and Harry jumped up to stand and walked over to him.

"Uh... Father, please. I can explain. Um..." Sam said, getting an expectant look from Father Reynolds and an incredulous one from Harry.

"You can? Because let me tell you, I'm coming up blank." Harry muttered to him, before turning back and smiling nervously at the Father.

"Huh, you're right. Me either... this is a séance." Sam told him with a defeated sigh.

"A séance? Young man, you are in the House of God!"

"It's based on early Christian rites, if that helps any." Sam told him with a weak smile.

"You think that makes it any better?" Harry hissed, not taking his eyes off of the priest.

"Enough! You're both coming with me." He said, grabbing their arms and pulling them out of the room.

"Father, please, just wait –" Sam stopped mid-sentence when the room became filled with a bright light and they all turned to look at it. Father Reynolds just stared at it, mystified.

"Oh my God. Is that... is that an angel?" Father Reynolds asked softly, still staring at the light, Harry turned to look at him and shook his head.

"No, sorry, it's not. It's just Father Gregory." Harry told him gently, and the light started to fade and showed Father Gregory standing before them.

"Thomas?"

"I've come in answer to your prayers." Father Gregory told Father Reynolds with a serene smile that made Harry scoff and roll his eyes. "Sam, I thought I sent you on your path. You should hurry."

"Father, I'm sorry. But you're not an angel." Sam told him, looking at the spirit in front of them.

"Of course I am."

"No, you're a man. You're a spirit. And you need to rest." Sam told him sadly.

"I _was_ a man. But now, I'm an angel. I was on the steps of the church, and I felt that bullet pierce right through me. But there was no pain. And suddenly, I could see... everything. Father Reynolds, I saw you, praying and crying here. I came to help you."

"I'm sorry to burst your bubble, but the reason you felt no pain? That was because the reaper assigned to you had already taken your soul so that you didn't feel anything. I'm sorry, but Sam's right, you're not an angel." Harry told him point blank, making the spirit look at him.

"I am an angel and I came to help." He told him firmly, and Harry just rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Help how?" Father Reynolds asked him, stepping up to stand between Sam and Harry. "Those murders – that was because of you?"

"I received the word of God. He spoke to me, told me to smite the wicked. I'm carrying out His will."

"You're driving innocent people to kill." Father Reynolds argued.

"Those innocent people are being offered redemption. Some people need redemption. Don't they, Sam?" Father Gregory asked, looking at Sam and making Harry narrow his eyes and growl.

"Don't bring him into this! He's far better than you!" Harry growled, stepping in front of Sam and glaring at the spirit.

"How can you call this redemption?" Father Reynolds asked, looking at Father Gregory in horror.

"You can't understand it now. But the rules of man and the rules of God are two very different things.."

"Those people – they're locked up!" Sam told him, frowning and placing a hand on Harry's shoulder to calm him down.

"No, they're happy. They've found peace, beaten their demons. And I've given them the keys to heaven."

"No, no! This is vengeance. It's wrong. Thomas, this goes against everything you believed. You're lost, misguided." Father Reynolds said with a shake of his head.

"Father... no, I'm not misguided."

"You are not an angel, Thomas. Men cannot be angels."

"But... but I don't understand. You prayed for me to come."

"I prayed for God's help, not this. What you're doing is not God's will. Thou shalt not kill. That's the word of God." Father Reynolds told him sadly.

"Let us help you." Sam said softly, not letting go of Harry, who looked as though he wanted to drag the spirit down to hell himself.

"No."

"It's time to rest, Thomas, to be at peace. Please... let me give you Last Rites." Father Reynolds said, and, after a long pause, Father Gregory nodded his agreement, Harry just glanced over his shoulder and stiffened. "O, holy hosts above, I call upon thee as a servant of Christ to sanctify our actions this day, in fulfilment of the will of God." Father Reynolds then made a sign of the cross. Harry gasped and slumped back into Sam, who caught him and looked down at him in concern.

"Harry?"

"Father Reynolds?"

"Rest." Father Reynolds said and Father Gregory knelt on the floor, whilst Harry gasped and Sam knelt down and let Harry rest against his chest. Hank appeared in the room whilst all this was happening and walked over to Sam and Harry, kneeling down next to Harry he placed his hands over his ears. "I call upon the Archangel Raphael, master of the air, to make open the way. Let the fire of the Holy Spirit now descend, that this being might be awakened to the world beyond." A bright light began to emanate from Father Gregory and completely encompassed him for a moment before both the light and Father Gregory vanished.

"He cannot see me." Hank whispered to Sam quickly, not letting go of Harry as Father Reynolds looked down at them in shock.

"Is he okay?"

"Er... yeah. He's just a little overwhelmed from everything that's happened today." Sam told him, moving to stand up and picking Harry up to carry him. Hank stood up as well and rubbed Harry's hand.

"Well... thank you for allowing me to send Father Gregory to rest."

"It's alright. I'd better get him back, and get him into bed." Sam said, nodding his head to an unconscious Harry.

"Of course. Stay safe."

--

Sam entered the motel still carrying Harry and placed him on his bed, Hank walking in and closing the door, before he looked at Harry.

"What's wrong with him?" Sam asked, sitting on the bed next to Harry and running his hand through his hair, worried for him. Hank watched him and smiled sadly.

"You care for him?"

"Yeah, I do."

"He cares for you too. He made a deal for you. Gave his soul up to me for eternity as long as you were kept safe. Bought you twenty years on your life. You won't die for twenty years. After that, you might die, but it could be many years after."

"What? Why'd he do that?"

"Because he found something out. Something he knew would happen, but didn't know it might happen to you."

"What?"

"I can't tell you that."

"Can you tell me what's wrong with him? Will he be okay?" Sam asked him, looking down at the still unconscious reaper.

"He will be fine, though it may take a couple of hours. If I tell you, you must promise to not tell anyone else, and certainly not write it in your fathers journal."

"Of course. I need to know what happened to him so that I can stop it from happening again!"

"Well, congratulations, you found the way to get rid of reapers." Hank told him with a sigh, moving to stand on the other side of the bed.

"What?"

"When a person dies and becomes a reaper, they are not given their Last Rites. Their soul is not sent on. If a priest, therefore, performs a Last Rites near to a reaper, their soul is ripped away from them and destroyed."

"Harry's soul was destroyed?" Sam asked in horror.

"No, I got there in time to stop it from happening. I am the only one who can stop a soul from moving on, hence my ability to make reapers Harry is my favourite and so I have been keeping an eye on him, though I admit, I never thought this would happen."

"I'm sorry, if I had known..."

"It's not your fault. Though if I find out you used this against another reaper, then I will get rid of Harry's deal and take your soul myself."

"I really won't die for twenty years because of Harry?" Sam asked him quietly, looking down at the reaper on his bed.

"Yes. You might get stabbed, you might get shot, hell, you might get your throat slit, but you will not die. It will heal and you will be fine. Just be careful, if you lose a limb, it won't grow back."

"What if I get beheaded?"

"You might get beheaded?" Hank asked him with an amused smirk.

"Hey, it happens."

"Yes, it does. Not very often anymore, but it does happen. Should it happen to you, well it won't. You're head will not detach from your body. It'll hurt like hell, but you'll still be alive, head intact, just a little loose."

"Loose?"

"Yes, ask Harry to explain Nearly Headless Nick to you."

"Should you be telling me this?"

"Probably not, I'm assuming from your lack of knowledge that he hasn't told you, so it is clear he probably doesn't want you to know about it." Hank told him with a careless shrug.

"What about Dean?"

"What about him?"

"Is he safe?"

"No, Harry only offered himself to save you. Dean is on his own so to speak."

"What about me? Can I make a deal with you to save Dean?"

"You could, but do you really want to waste Harry's gift, just to save Dean, who may not even die for years to come anyway."

"I... I don't know. I don't want Dean to die though."

"Think on it and I will come back to you in a weeks time to find your answer. Think about what you will offer as well. It has to be good, and it cannot go against Harry's deal. His comes first I am afraid." Hank told him and disappeared just as the door opened and Dean walked in looking a little stunned.

"How was _your_ da—dude! What happened to him?" Dean asked, looking at Harry seemingly asleep on the bed in shock. Sam just sighed and shook his head.

"Let's just say I am now the only hunter with the knowledge of how to kill a reaper." Sam told him wearily, looking down at Harry.

"What? How? We can use this! Not to kill Harry of course, but other reapers should we need to!"

"I can't Dean. For one I wouldn't do that and for another, if I did do that, Hank has told me he will personally take my soul." Sam told him, still not looking up from looking at Harry.

"He's unconscious. Must have been something pretty powerful."

"You could say that. Depends on how you look at it and who you ask. It wasn't an angel by the way. You were right, it was Father Gregory." Sam told him with a sigh, looking up when Dean shoved his flask under his nose and taking it with a small smile. "I don't know, Dean, I just... I wanted to believe so badly. Its so damn hard to do this... what we do. All alone, you know? There's so much evil out in the world, Dean, I feel like I could drown in it. And when I think about my destiny, when I think about how I could end up..."

"Yeah, well, don't worry about that, all right? I'm watching out for you."

"Yeah, I know you are. So's Harry it would seem."

"Huh?" Dean asked with a confused frown, moving to sit on his bed and looked at Sam.

"He made a deal with Hank. His soul for my life. Gave me twenty years of life. Apparently, no matter what, I won't die. I can't die." Sam told him quietly, running his hands through Harry's hair once more.

"Dude, what?"

"Hank told me. The real reason Harry let Hank take his soul permanently, gave up his choice of becoming a human, was for my safety."

"That's... hell, I don't know what that is..." Dean admitted with a shake of his head, looking at Harry in a new light.

"So did you find out what Father Gregory wanted you to stop?" Sam asked, looking up at Dean, who was still looking at Harry and frowning.

"Huh, Gregory's spirit gave you some pretty good information. The guy in the car was bar news. I barely got there in time."

"What happened?"

"He's dead."

"Did you..."

"No, but I'll tell you one thing... the way he died, if I hadn't seen it with my own two eyes, I never would've believed it. I mean... I don't know what to call it." Dean told him with a shake of his head.

"What? Dean, what did you see?"

"Maybe... God's will."

--

Sam stood by the car, waiting for Harry and Dean, who seemed to have reached a whole new understanding and were actually friendly to one another, to come out of the house of the latest murder they were investigating.

"Have you decided yet?" Sam spun around and saw Hank looking at him on the other side of the car.

"I... Yeah, I have." Sam told him with a weak smile.

"And?"

"I want to make a deal for Dean's protection."

**A/B – Huh, would this be considered as ending on a cliffhanger? Even if you're not actually going to find out what the deal he made was for quite a while. Bless Harry though. Always selfless, even when he's a morally corrupt reaper. Though, if you look at it in another light, what he did is also quite selfish on his part.**

**Anyways, another chapter after so long of no updating. And yes, I'm well aware that I said I wouldn't be updating this again, but well I got inspiration. So consider it back up and running. I won't be updating as often and quickly as I do with Asmodeus though. That fic takes precedence over this one. Sorry. Asmodeus will be updated tomorrow sometimes for those who wish to know.**

**So tell me what you think and if you're actually still reading this! Lol! I'm sorry I considered abandoning this, I just lost my muse for a wee while. Hopefully it's back now though. Cheers for sticking with me!! **


	15. Born Under A Bad Sign

Chapter Fourteen – Born Under A Bad Sign

Harry stood, leaning against the Impala, closing his eyes and focusing on Sam once more, and then groaning when he came up blank again. He looked at Dean and shook his head. Dean frowned and then picked up his phone and dialled a number.

"Ellen, it's me again. Any chance you've heard from him? ... I swear it's like looking for my dad all over again. I'm losing my mind here. ... No, I've called him a thousand times and Harry can't sense him either but we both know he's still alive. We don't know where he went, or why. Sam's just gone." Dean said, glancing over as Harry when he whimpered then looked at his phone. "Hang on."

Harry glanced over at him curiously and then ran over to his side when he heard what Dean said next. "Sammy? Where the hell are you? Are you okay? ... Hey, hey, hey! Calm down. Where are you? ... Alright, don't move. We're on our way." Dean hung up the phone and looked at Harry. "Come on."

--

Harry followed Dean down the hallway of the motel Sam was apparently staying at and stopped at a door, nibbling on his lip anxiously when Dean knocked on it.

"Sam, it's us." Dean called through the door and then looked at Harry when there was no answer. "Sam!" Harry nudged Dean out of the way and tried the door, looking somewhat shocked when it opened.

"Sam? Hey." Harry called out quietly walking into the room and looking over at Sam, who was sitting on the bed with his head in his hands. Dean followed Harry into the room and closed the door behind him.

"Hey guys." Sam said quietly, Harry glanced back at Dean and then walked over to kneel down in front of Sam, gasping when he saw the blood on his hands. Dean followed and sat down on the bed next to Sam.

"Shit, are you bleeding?" Harry asked, taking Sam's hands into his own.

"I tried to wash it off." Sam told him quietly, and Dean leant forward and gasped, seeing that the front of Sam's shirt was soaked in blood also.

"Oh my God." Dean muttered, looking at Sam in shock and then looking down at Harry, who was still holding onto Sam's hands, nibbling his lip nervously.

"I don't think it's my blood."

"Whose is it?" Dean asked, almost afraid of the answer, Harry just rubbed Sam's hands soothingly with his thumbs.

"I don't know."

"Sam, what the hell happened?" Dean asked him, shifting to look at Sam better, sharing a concerned look with Harry when Sam just shrugged.

"Dean... I don't remember anything."

--

Harry looked over at Sam in concern once Dean had left the room in search of some food, seeing as Sam admitted that he had no idea when he had last eaten and possibly some answers as to how Sam had gotten there.

"Sammy..." Harry said quietly, looking at a barely responding Sam, then sighing and standing up. He moved over to Sam's bag and searched through it, pulling out some clean, fresh clothing and walked back over to Sam, dumping the clothes on the bed. "Right, come on. We're going to get you cleaned up and changed."

"I don't... what if I killed someone, Harry?" Sam asked, looking up from the floor to Harry, tears shining in his eyes. Harry sighed and grabbed Sam's hand and tugged him off the bed. He led him into the bathroom and turned on both taps, filling the sink with warm water before he spoke to Sam.

"If you killed someone, then you killed someone. However, if you did, you sure as hell weren't in control. Now, place your hands in the water so that we can wash them." Harry told him, picking up Sam's hands and placing them in the water and the gently rubbing them clean, all the while looking at Sam in concern.

"You think I was possessed? What if this is what Dad warned Dean about? What if I've finally turned into whatever the hell Yellow-Eyes wanted."

"Azazel."

"What?"

"Yellow Eyes is actually called Azazel. He was once an angel, until he followed Lucifer down to Hell. Actually, I think he was sent to Hell because he told humans secrets and angered God. I can't remember. The point is though, he's a jerk and whatever happened to you, it wasn't because of what he did to you."

"You know, don't you?" Sam asked, watching as the water turned pink as Harry gently washed his hands and then moved to grab a towel and placed Sam's hands in it, tapping them dry.

"Yeah, I know. I was warned away from you. By everyone. Hank included. But I didn't, so now I'm involved. Azazel isn't going to let me get away with helping you and Dean."

"What can he do? He can't kill you, or can he?" Sam asked, taking his hands away from Harry and letting them drop to his side. Harry smiled at him and led him back into the other room.

"No, he can't kill me. Last rites only work for a priest or holy person. Azazel is about as far from that as you can get." Harry reassured him with a smile, slowly helping Sam out of his bloody shirt and throwing it to the floor, then picking up the clean shirt and handing it to Sam to put on.

"Why did you stick with us when everyone told you not to? When you knew what was happening?"

"Sammy, haven't you worked that one out yet?" Harry asked with a smile as he looked up at Sam, who pulled the t-shirt on over his head, ruffling up his hair and looking down at Harry, confused.

"I thought I had, but then Dean told me you didn't like him at all." Sam admitted with a shrug, taking the jeans Harry held out to him and quickly changing into them, whilst Harry just looked away and grinned.

"I didn't like Dean. At all. But I've found he kind of grows on you, you know? The more you get to know him, the more you get to like his music and crappy sense of timing with his jokes. But that's not why I stayed with you. Like I said, I couldn't stand the man when I first met you."

"So why? Why did you want to come with us?" Sam asked him, looking down at Harry, who looked up at him and smiled sheepishly.

"Honestly? At first it was because I figured you two would be able to protect me where Hank failed. Then it changed."

"You don't want us to protect you anymore?"

"No, well yes, but that's not why I stuck with you."

"So why?"

"God Sam! You're so dense sometimes!" Harry exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air in exasperation and then shocking Sam by grabbing his neck and pulling him down to kiss him. Harry pulled away quickly and then turned his head to hide the furious blush, whilst Sam just looked at him on shock. "Say something."

"You just... And I'm..."

"You know, of all the things I thought you might say to me, it didn't begin with 'And I'm...' I would love to hear you finish that one." Harry admitted with a weak grin, still blushing as he finally met Sam's stare.

"Er... I was gonna say 'and I'm alive.'"

"'And I'm alive.'? Seriously? You thought you'd die if I kissed you? You thought about me kissing you? I don't know if I'm confused, insulted or amused." Harry admitted with a frown on his face. "I'm swaying more towards confused."

"It's just... since you have become a reaper full time, and have gotten your powers back, you have avoided skin to skin with both me and Dean. I figured it was because you would kill us if you did." Sam admitted with an embarrassed shrug.

"Aw, that's cute. Hilariously incorrect, but cute. I didn't touch either of you because, well... I generally don't. And erm... I've just washed your hands... you didn't die then."

"Yeah, well... my logic seemingly escaped me when my memory did." Sam told him somewhat snappishly, making Harry flinch and place his hand on Sam's cheek.

"Sammy... one, I have to think about killing someone in order to kill them with my touch and two, have faith that Dean will be able to find something out."

"That didn't really help me, you know? Just in case you thought it did." Sam told him, though Harry noted that he was smiling slightly.

"Well, it was either that or have my wicked way with you, but Dean may walk through that door any minute now, I didn't want to scar him for life or give him an excuse to give me my last rites, quite literally."

"Dean's not holy either."

"Oh Gods no. I know that, but what I'm saying, it's making you smile, which is a big plus in my books." Harry pointed out, and Sam chuckled slightly.

"Fine, you've made me feel a little better. But I can't help but remember that I may have killed someone."

"Sam. Do you know how many people I've killed?" Harry asked, pushing Sam to sit on the bed and then sitting down next to him.

"You're a reaper Harry, it's kind of a given that you kill people."

"I didn't mean that, as a reaper, I've taken two hundred and twenty-five souls as a reaper. Before that however, I had killed eighteen people. And maimed countless others." Harry admitted, looking away when Sam looked at him in shock. "Whatever you've done, I don't think it holds a candle to me. And I was in full control over my body the whole time."

"Why did you kill all those people?" Sam asked him quietly and Harry shrugged.

"Different reasons. The big one, it was a war. It was either them or me."

"So you had a reason. I didn't."

"Sam, if you don't think you're not in a war right now, then you're dumber than I thought. This is a war, perhaps not as full on and bloody as mine was, yet, but it will get that way. Whatever you did, whosever that blood was, I _know_ it wasn't you." Harry told him earnestly, Sam looked at him and then smiled and leant down to press a kiss to Harry's lips. Harry wrapped his arms around Sam's neck and pulled him closer to him, deepening the kiss, then pulling back suddenly when he heard Dean unlock the door.

"Er..." Dean looked between the two curiously as he stepped into the room, a bag of food in his hands.

"What did you find?" Sam asked him, grinning when Harry ducked his head to hide the blush.

"Right... I don't want to know." Dean said, looking at Harry and then at Sam. "You checked in two days ago under the name Richard Sambora. Of course, I think the scariest part about this whole thing is the fact that you're a Bon Jovi fan." Dean told him, making Harry snort in amusement whilst Sam frowned.

"See what I mean about his crappy sense of timing." Harry muttered to try and get Sam to lighten up a little.

"Dean."

"Your room's been quiet. Nobody's noticed anything unusual." Dean told him, finally acting seriously.

"You mean no one saw me walking around, covered in blood?" Sam asked incredulously and even Harry looked at Dean in confusion.

"Yeah. That's what I mean."

"Then how the hell did I get here, Dean? What happened to me?" Sam asked him desperately.

"I don't know, alright? But you're okay, that's what matters. Everything else we can deal with." Dean reassured him, getting a smile from Harry, who placed a hand on Sam's thigh.

"Oh really? 'Cause what if I hurt someone? Or worse?"

"Sam, we've gone through this..." Harry muttered, rolling his eyes when Sam seemingly ignored him.

"Yeah, and you didn't say anything about whether or not this was what Dad warned Dean about."

"Actually I did. I lied, but I did." Harry admitted, getting a sharp look from both Sam and Dean.

"You lied?"

"You know something about this?"

"Yes, I lied and no, I don't know anything about this. Which is why I lied. See, pretty circle. Truthfully, I don't know if Azazel had anything to do with this, but I doubt he did, knowing some of what he has planned."

"You know what he has planned? What?"

"I... I can't tell you."

"What?! Why the hell not?" Dean yelled, glaring down at Harry, who refused to look at either of them.

"Because! I may be higher up on the pecking order than Azazel, but he's still a nasty-ass bastard and can still torture me for a hell of a long time before Hank will get word of it. As much as I _want_ to help Sam, I can't. Sorry."

"Wait. I'm totally lost, I'm assuming Aza-whatever is Yellow Eyes."

"Azazel. Yes, that's his name. You didn't actually think his name was Yellow Eyes did you? Anyway, it's not the point. I'm sorry I lied to you, but I wanted you to feel better." Harry admitted to Sam quietly, looking down at his hands in his lap.

"It's okay. I understand why you did it, and it did help me feel a little better. Now I feel like crap, but at the time, I felt better." Sam told him with a small grin, getting a weaker smile in return.

"Oh God, I've stepped into a chick-flick." Dean groaned, ducking when Harry lobbed a pillow at his head. "Alright, enough already. Sammy, what's the last thing you remember?"

"Just us three... just in that motel room in West Texas. I went out to grab some burgers and –"

"West Texas? That was over a week ago." Dean exclaimed, whilst Harry grabbed Sam's hand and squeezed it comfortingly.

"That's it. Next thing I knew, I was sitting here – bloody. Felt like I'd been asleep for month."

"You felt like you'd been asleep?" Harry asked him suddenly, making Sam nod.

"Yeah."

"Huh. Carry on."

"There's nothing more to say. I remember nothing past that point until you guys showed up."

"Okay. Retrace your steps. The manager said you left yesterday afternoon and never saw you come back." Dean told him and then walked over to the window and looked at something before beckoning them over. "Hey." Sam and Harry glanced at one another and then walked over to Dean and looked at what had caught his attention. On the windowsill there was blood, making Sam look at them both anxiously.

--

Dean led Sam and Harry out of the motel and into the parking lot, where he stopped and turned around to look at Sam.

"Recognise anything?"

"Not really." Sam admitted and Dean shrugged and they continued walking until they reached the car storage units and Sam stopped. "Wait."

"What?" Harry and Dean asked at the same time, looking at Sam curiously.

"I think it was here."

"You remember?" Dean asked him, stepping forwards to stand next to Sam.

"Not really, it just... feels familiar, you know?" Sam asked them with a shrug, before turning and pointing to Storage Unit _#_2. "Try that one. Yeah." Sam reached into his coat pocket and stopped on their way towards the storage unit. "Wait." Harry and Dean turned to look at him curiously and he pulled out a key.

"Creepy." Harry muttered, before Dean took the key from Sam and unlocked the storage unit. Harry and Dean lifted the door and saw a blue Volkswagon Beetle parked inside.

"Oh, please tell me you didn't steal this." Dean almost begged, making Harry chuckle and look at Sam, who walked inside to look at the car.

"Yeah Sammy, it's no Impala."

"You like the Impala?" Dean asked Harry in shock.

"Who the hell wouldn't? It's a classic. I love that car. Shame you're a jerk, but I can't blame it on the car." Harry admitted to him with a grin.

"More blood." Sam called out before Dean could find something to say in response. Harry and Dean looked over at Sam, who had blood on his finger tips and walked over to him.

"Sammy, you have got to stop with the blood." Harry muttered, wiping the blood off on his shirt, which miraculously stayed clean much to Sam's shock, whilst Dean looked at something in the backseat.

"Guys, backseat." Dean called over and Sam leant over and picked up a bloody knife from the seat.

"You think I used this on someone?" Sam asked, panic rising in his voice.

"I'm not thinking anything." Dean muttered before he leant over and picked up a pack of cigarettes. "Okay, now this is disturbing. Come on, man, this couldn't have been you. It had to have been someone else, somebody who –" Dean sniffed the pack and looked at Sam "—smokes menthols."

"Dot Cotton?" Harry asked, getting confused looks from Sam and Dean.

"Who?"

"Oh what, you can make pop culture references, but when I do, I get weird looks. Doesn't anyone watch Eastenders?"

"What?"

"Oh never mind. Sam, you don't strike me as the Dot Cotton sort. For one you're male... thank god." Harry muttered, getting a bemused look from Sam.

"Hey." Sam said suddenly as something caught his eye and he picked up a receipt. "Gas receipt – few towns over."

--

"Alright, the receipts for ten galleons at pump number two. You getting any goose bumps yet? God-this-looks-familiar, déjà vu vibes?" Dean asked when they pulled up into the gas station. Harry snorted in amusement in the backseat, moving forwards to lean on the back of the seat between the two. Sam shook his head negatively and Dean sighed. "Maybe someone inside will remember you. Come on."

They all got out of the car and followed Dean into the gas station convenience store, where the guy behind desk looked up and then glared at Sam.

"You, outta here! Now! I'm calling the cops."

"You talking to him?" Dean asked him in surprise, pointing to Sam beside him, whils Harry watched with a mixture of amusement and frustration.

"Yeah, I'm talking to him. Jerk comes in yesterday, stinkin' drunk, grabs a forty from the fridge, starts chugging."

"This guy?" Dean asked him, stunned, then turned to look at Sam. "You're drinking malt liquor?"

"Not after he whipped the bottle at my friggin' head."

"_This guy?_" Dean asked him, completely stunned by this point, whilst Harry was having a hard time not laughing.

"What, am I speaking Urdu?"

"What the hell is Urdu?" Harry asked Sam quietly, only to be ignored.

"Look, I'm really sorry if I did anything –"

"You know what? Tell your story walking, pal. Popo will be here in five." The cashier told him, holding the phone to his ear.

"Okay, wait, he's leaving, he's leaving. Put the phone down. Sam, go wait in the car." Dean told Sam, who looked at him.

"Dean—"

"Go wait in the car!" Dean demanded and Sam walked out of the store after a glance at the cashier, leaving Dean and Harry looking at the man. "Okay, look. I just wanna talk to you, that's it, okay?" Dean asked and the man hung up the phone. "Now, when he took off yesterday, which way did he go?"

"Why don't you ask him?"

"'Cause I'm asking you. Now, please, you'd be doing me a huge favour, okay?"

"Oh, do you a favour? Well, that _is_ what I live for. You know, your buddy didn't pay for the booze or the smokes, which he also illegally lit up." The man said sarcastically and Dean exhaled angrily before pulling out his wallet, stopping when Harry placed a hand over his.

"Let me deal with this, it'll be quicker.... and cheaper." Harry told him, moving to stand in front of the unimpressed cashier.

"And what do you think you can do?"

"This." Harry muttered, before reaching forwards quickly and seemingly grabbed the man by the shoulders, shocking Dean when he pulled back with what seemed to be a spirit of the man, leaving the real man standing there behind the desk frozen. "Tell us where he went."

"Harry..."

"Tell us now, or I take your soul and leave it in hell to be some demons bitch." Harry growled angrily.

"North! He went north on Route 71! Please don't kill me." The spirit man begged, whilst Dean watched in fascinated horror. Harry smiled pleasantly and then shoved the spirit back in the mans body, which jerked before the man blinked and looked at Harry in horror.

"What did you do?"

"Oh, I just took his soul out of his body. Simple reaper stuff. One of the first things you learn actually. Well, if Hank's your teacher that is." Harry told him with a grin. Dean grinned back weakly whilst the man behind the counter began to sob quietly.

"Right, thanks for the info." Dean told the man, who let out a choked sob and made Harry sigh and roll his eyes.

"You can't remember this. You never met me or Dean. You're gonna decide to leave town and head for another state." Harry told him and the man looked at him, stopping crying and nodded spacily before blinking and looking at Harry and Dean in confusion.

"Can I help you?"

"No, it's alright. We've got everything we need. Come on, Dean." Harry called out as he left the store. Dean looked at the man in shock and then shook his head and followed Harry outside.

"You freakin' scare the crap out of me sometimes." Dean muttered as they both made their way over to Sam.

"Just don't forget what I am and we'll be fine."

--

Harry sat in the back of the Impala once more and looked at Sam curiously, closing his eyes and trying to sense the two in front of him. He frowned when he could only sense Dean, but shrugged it off as nothing important.

"What's going on with you, Sam? Hm? 'Cause smoking, throwing bottles at people – that sounds more like me than you."

"Well no one's gonna deny that." Harry piped up from the back seat, grinning when Dean glared at him through the rear-view mirror.

"Dean, wait. Wait, here. Turn down that road." Sam told Dean suddenly as they approached a turning.

"What?"

"I don't know how I know, I just do." Sam told him and Dean turned down the road where they came to a stop in front of the only house in sight for miles. They all climbed out of the car once again, noticing the security camera mounted outside the house, the porch light turning on also.

"Whoever lives here had said they don't like surprises." Sam told them quietly as they all walked up to the front door.

"Should we knock?" Dean asked them and Harry shook his head before walking through the wall. Seconds later, they heard the door unlock and it opened, Harry standing to the side to let Dean walk in, Sam soon following behind.

"There was a window smashed." Sam told them, making Dean look at him in surprise.

"I'm surprised the cops didn't show. A place like this, you'd think they'd have an alarm." Dean muttered as he followed Harry into the house, wondering what had caught the reapers attention for him to be moving so determinedly through the house, ignoring the rooms they were passing until he reached a dark office and walked to kneel next to a body on the floor.

"Poor man, no one to collect your soul. I'm sorry. I didn't know. I didn't get a text." Dean heard Harry whisper to the body, frowning when Harry then gently ran a hand over the mans arm, before he pushed the man onto his back, showing them that his entire right side was covered in blood.

"Dean, I did this." Sam said, worried, whilst Harry refused to comment, knowing that Sam was the one to do this, seeing as he was the one that had to take the souls of all those the brother's killed. Human or not.

"We don't know that." Dean denied, and Harry had to smile at Dean's determination to see the best in his little brother, even when all the evidence was pointing against him.

"What else do you need? I mean, how else do you explain the car, the knife, the blood –" Sam demanded and Harry sighed and stood up from the body.

"I don't know, man, why don't you tell me? Look, even if you did do this, I'm sure you had a reason – self-defence, he was a bad son of a bitch, something. Did he have any ID on him, Harry?"

"Nope, but I can tell you his name if you want to know."

"I need your lock pick, Dean." Sam said before Dean could answer Harry's question.

"Steve Wandel." Harry told Dean when Dean looked at him in question, even as he handed Sam his lock pick. Harry and Dean then looked at Sam, who had unlocked a closet in the room and opened it, showing a large collection of guns, the walls at the side covered in maps and other research.

"Holy... either this guy's a Unabomber—"

"Or a hunter." Harry concluded grimly and Sam turned to look at them in horror.

"Guys, I think I killed a hunter."

"Let's find out." Dean said and took a tape from the security camera on the wall and played the footage on Steve's computer. "Here we go."

They stood, or sat in Sam's case, in silence, watching as the tape showed Sam entering the man's office. Sam then began attacking the man, punching and kicking him to the floor. He then dragged him near to the closet and took out a knife, slitting the man's throat and letting the body drop to the floor. They watched as Sam absently wiped his hands on his shirt and Dean paused the tape. All three watched the screen with matching grim, stunned expressions.

--

Not long later, Harry and Dean were wiping the place of any evidence of their having been there, especially Sam, whilst Sam was just sitting at the desk, reading over a letter in his hands, still looking shocked.

"Sam, you need to snap out of this now." Harry ordered, clicking his fingers in front of Sam's face, to no avail. He looked over at Dean helplessly, only for Dean to shrug and then turn his attention to the computer.

"How do you erase this? Huh? Sam, come on, we need your help." Dean told Sam, motioning to the computer.

"I killed him, Dean. I just broke in and killed him."

"Oh screw this." Harry muttered, gently pushing Dean out of the way and placing a hand on top of the computer, focusing some magic into his palm and then ducking slightly when the computer exploded, which finally got the attention of Sam as well.

"Dude, what the hell?"

"Magic and electronics don't go well together. Now, Sam, listen, whoever the hell this guy was, he was a hunter. He was gonna get killed eventually. Hell, it's practically in the job description!"

"As much as I hate to say it Sammy, but Harry's right. Plus, it means that other hunters are going to come looking for his killer, which means we've gotta cover our tracks, okay?"

"His name was Steve Wandel."

"Yeah, we know. Harry told us that already." Dean muttered, sounding exasperated as he used a cloth to rub down every surface either of them may have touched.

"Harry, didn't tell us that he had a daughter." Sam muttered, before waving the letter in his hands. "This is from his daughter."

"Sam! Enough of the pity party! The people I killed had kids, hell I went to school with them! In fact, I killed some of _their_ kids! And I've taken the souls of fifteen children under the age of ten. He can't have been that great a dad if he wasn't there for her. Now suck it up and help us get rid of your bloody prints."

"Yeah, what he said, only... you know... more sympathetically." Dean told him, grinning weakly at Harry, when he shot Dean a withering glare. "Come on, wipe your prints and then we go."

"Give me that." Harry grumbled, grabbing the letter from Sam's hands and setting it on fire.

"What the hell did you do that for?"

"Did you touch any other paper on this desk?" Harry asked, ignoring Sam's indignant question.

"Why?"

"Because it's harder to wipe your prints off of paper. Better to just burn it instead. Now, hurry up and lets get out of this place."

--

Dean entered the new motel room, with Harry and Sam following behind them, Harry closing the door behind him and leaning against it, pressing his hands into his eyes. Dean glanced over at him in concern and then looked at Sam.

"Alright, we get a couple hours sleep, then we put this place in our rear-view mirror. Look, I know this is bad, okay? But you've gotta snap out of it. Sam, say something." Dean pleaded, looking at Sam and then back over at Harry, who was still leaning heavily on the door, occasionally shaking his head.

"Just get some sleep and leave in the morning? Murder, Dean. That's what I did."

"Argh! Sam, get the hint! We don't care!" Harry grouched, walking over shakily and falling down onto the nearest bed.

"Look, we don't even know it was you." Dean said and Sam just scoffed. "Shapeshifter!"

"Oh, come on. You know it wasn't, you saw the tape. There was no eye flare, no distortion."

"But it wasn't you, alright? I mean, yeah, it might've been you, but it wasn't _you_." Dean said, before frowning as he repeated the sentence back in his head, then shaking his head and looking at Sam earnestly.

"I think it was. I think maybe more than you know." Sam admitted, sitting down on the bed next to Harry.

"What the hell does that mean?"

"Yeah, what he said." Harry muttered through clenched teeth.

"For the last few weeks, I've been having... I've been having these feelings."

"What feelings?" Dean asked, moving to stand in front of Sam.

"Rage... hate. And I can't stop it." Sam admitted, forcing Dean to move over to the other bed to sit down on it, looking at Sam in concern. "It just gets worse. Day by day, it gets worse."

"You never told us this." Dean pointed out, whilst Harry hissed in pain but looked at Sam with the same amount of concern as Dean was showing.

"I didn't wanna scare you."

"Well, bang-up job on that." Dean muttered after a pause, getting a muted chuckle from Harry, whilst Sam just sighed.

"Dean, Azazel – you know he has plans for me. And we both know that he's turned other children into killers before, too."

"No one can control you but you."

"Dean –" Harry started to say, but Sam interrupted him.

"It sure doesn't seem like that, Dean. It feels like no matter what I do, slowly but surely, I'm just becoming –"

"What?"

"Who I'm meant to be. I mean, you said it once yourself, Dean. I've gotta face up to who I am." Sam said quietly and Harry fell back onto the bed with a groan.

"I didn't mean this!"

"But it's still true! You know that! Dad knew that, too! That's why he told you if it ever came to this –"

"Shut up, Sam!"

"Dean, you promised him. You promised _me_." Sam told him, and Harry pushed himself to sit up

"Yeah, and I told Dean that I would personally take his soul down to Hell with me if he shot you."

"Harry... He has to do it."

"No. Listen to me. We're gonna figure this out, okay? Harry is gonna contact Hank and get him to find out everything he can and I'm gonna look in other sources. I mean, there's gotta be a way, right?"

"Yeah, there is." Sam said, standing up and taking his gun out of his bag, holding it out for Dean to take. "I don't wanna hurt anyone else. I don't wanna hurt you."

"You won't. Whatever this is... you can fight it." Dean said, shaking his head and not taking the gun. Harry just watched the two in silence, not sure what he should do, but knowing that no one was going to get shot as his phone hadn't buzzed at all.

"No. I can't. Not forever." Sam told him, beginning to tear up. "Here, you've gotta do it." Sam told him, putting the gun into Dean's hand and finally letting the tears fall.

"You know, I've tried so hard to keep you safe."

"I know." Sam told him softly, looking down at the ground. Dean paused and looked at the gun in his hands.

"I can't. I'd rather die." Dean told him, dropping the gun to the floor.

"No. You'll live." Sam told him, glancing at Harry, who had stood up from the bed and was watching them both warily. Sam then picked up a second gun and turned to Dean. He smirked and then quickly moved his hand and shot Harry in the head before looking back at a stunned Dean. "You'll live to regret this." Sam told him with an evil smirk before he knocked Dena out with the gun and left the room.

--

"Fuck! My head! That little bastard." Harry muttered, sitting up on the bed and shaking his head, pressing and hand to his forehead. "Ugh, I can't believe I made out with a fucking demon! God dammit! I knew I should have been suspicious that he returned my damned feelings. Dean, wake up now!" Harry grunted, kicking Dean in the side not so gently and getting a groan of pain from the downed hunter.

"Harry?" Dean muttered, pushing himself up off the floor just as the motel manager walked in, looking between the two suspiciously.

"It's past checkout." The manager told them, whilst Harry quickly vanished the blood from the bed covers before the manager saw it.

"What?" Dean asked, dazed and looking over at Harry for confirmation.

"It's past checkout, and I have a couple here who needs a room." The manager told them, gesturing to a couple in the hallway, a middle-aged man and a much younger, dolled-up woman. Dean pushed himself up off the floor and looked past the man at the couple, raising an eyebrow and looking over his shoulder at Harry.

"Yeah, I bet they do. What time is it?" Dean asked, looking at the couple, then back at the manager.

"Twelve-thirty."

"The guy that was with us – have you seen him?" Harry asked, stepping in front of Dean, which made Dean take the opportunity to lean on his slightly to try and get rid of the dizziness.

"Yeah, he left before dawn in your car, and you should've gone with him, because now I'm gonna have to charge you extra."

"Oh, son of a bitch." Dean cursed, Harry mentally echoing that thought.

"It's just policy, sir."

"Yeah, we get that. Here, take this as compensation." Harry said, grabbing the managers hand and placing nothing in it, making sure to drag his finger tips over the man's palm. Much to Dean's confusion the man closed his fingers over nothing and smiled at Harry widely.

"Thank you, sir!"

"No problem. Now, do you think we could use your computer?" Dean asked him, making the manager look at him unsure.

"We would be most appreciative."

--

Dean sat in front of the computer with a website for a mobile phone service on the screen, whilst also talking on the phone, Harry was distracting the manager from asking too many questions.

"Hi, so sorry to bother you, but my son snuck out of the hose last night and went to a Justin Timberlake concert. ... What? ... Yeah, Justin is quite the triple-threat." Dean told the person on the phone, rolling his eyes at Harry, who chuckled. "Anyway, he's not back yet, and I'm starting to worry. ... Right, boys will be boys, but see, Sammy is a diabetic, and if he doesn't get his insulin, then I'd just... I have to find him. ... Please, I'm begging you. ... Yeah, I'm on the website right now. I just need to activate the GPS in his cell phone." Dean listened to the person on the other end and then typed in a password, which brought up a map.

"Psst, does it have coordinates?" Harry whispered to him, and Dean looked at the map then nodded to him. "Good."

"Yeah, right there – Duluth, Minnesota. ... Yeah, that _is_ a long way to go for a concert. I appreciate your help." Dean told the person and then hung up and spun in the seat to look at Harry.

"Minnesota? What the bloody hell is he doing there?" Harry asked, leaning against the desk, waving his hand negligently at the manager behind him.

"More to the point, how the hell are we gonna get there?"

"I'm going to take us. As long as we have coordinates or can sense our victim, then we can get anywhere. Though it'll probably make you feel quite ill the first time."

"Fine Let's just get there now before he does something else stupid."

"You do have a point, there's only so much cleaning up we can do before one of us snaps and kills him instead." Harry grumbled before turning to smile at the manager behind him. "You won't remember our faces. You just remember a strange couple leaving the motel room early this morning. They paid, and when you discover short-comings in your banking, you will assume it is the fault of an employee." Harry told him and then grabbed Dean's sleeve and dragged him out of the motel.

"You just have no morals, do you?"

"You're surprised?"

"Yeah, actually. I kinda always got the impression that you had _some_ morals, but this little experience has completely changed my mind."

"Like you Dean, there is little I won't do to keep Sam safe. You too if it makes Sam happy." Harry admitted, before linking his arm with Dean's. "No matter what, don't let go."

"Why would I--?" Dean started to ask, before Harry fell back into the shadows, dragging Dean with him.

--

"Holy --! We are not doing that again!" Dean exclaimed, when they both fell out of the shadows, Dean only staying on his feet because Harry still had a hold on him. The reaper was stronger than he looked.

"Oh stop being a baby. If Sam moves on without us, but with the Impala, then we're going to have to do it again. Now come on." Harry told him, dragging him to the bar they had appeared in front of.

Dean shoved past him and threw the door open, both of them walking in to see that Sam had Jo tied up to a post in the bar and gagged.

"Sam!" Dean yelled out, pointing his gun at Sam, though once again Harry knew no one was going to die as his phone was still silent.

"I begged you to stop me, Dean! Harry, I thought you would stop me no matter what!"

"Yeah, well, I live to disappoint, clearly." Harry drawled, narrowing his eyes at 'Sam' and scoffing at his innocent, distressed act.

"Put the knife down, damn it!" Dean demanded, stepping nearer to Sam, still keeping his gun steadily pointed at Sam.

"I told you, I can't fight it! My head feels like it's on fire, alright?! Dean, kill me, or I'm gonna kill her! Please! You'd be doing be a favour. Shoot me. Shoot me!" Sam demanded and Dean tightened his grip on the gun momentarily before shaking his head.

"No, Sammy, come on." Dean said softly, lowering the gun.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Dean? Are you that scared of being alone that you'd rather let Jo die?!"

"Oh shut up. For one, Dean wouldn't be alone, I'm not exactly gonna leave him if he kills you and for another, who cares if Jo dies? She's annoying!" Harry pointed out, getting an incredulous glare from Jo and an amused one from Sam.

"Pining after _both_ of us now, reaper?" Sam asked spitefully, and Dean threw water in his face.

"That's holy water, you demonic son of a bitch!" Dean told him, as Sam began to thrash, holding his face before looking up at them, eyes completely black. Dean threw more water on him and Sam suddenly ran past them and threw himself through the tavern window to leave.

Harry nibbled on his lip and walked over to Jo, whilst Dean looked at him briefly before he ran out of the bar after Sam.

"He was possessed?"

"Looks that way, girly."

"Stop calling me that and why the hell were you going to let him _kill me?!_" Jo demanded shrilly. Harry just scoffed again and cut the ropes around Jo, releasing her from the post.

"Oh relax. I'm a reaper. It's my job to send on the souls of all those the Winchester brothers kill. I wasn't informed of having to send on yours, thus I knew Sam wasn't going to kill you." Harry informed her.

"Did Sam tell the truht?"

"It wasn't Sam and demons generally lie. A lot. It's quite possible that telling the truth physically pains them." Harry muttered as he led her out of the bar and towards where he could sense Dean.

"Yeah, but was he—it being truthful about your feelings?"

"In a way. Thing about demons, if they know something about you, they will twist it in any way to hurt you. That demon knows about my feelings for Sam and is using them against me. Don't worry though girly, Dean's still free. Though good luck tying him down. You'd have more chance with wild horses." Harry muttered, leading them to a warehouse not far from the bar and walking inside. He looked to the side when Jo pulled out her phone and began to ring someone, who Harry assumed was either Dean, Sam or Ellen.

"Can you... do you... how long have you been a reaper?" Jo asked, still holding the phone to her ear, the lack of answer on the other end pointed Harry towards either Dean or Sam, Dean being more likely.

"A while."

"Can you tell how anyone died?"

"If I knew them, or had something of theirs." Harry admitted uncomfortably, which increased when Jo took out a small knife with her free hand and handed it to him.

"How did he die?" Jo asked him, hanging up and then dialling again.

"You're the more prominent owner of this knife and I don't think you want to know how and when you are going to die. Hmm, before you, the owner was shot. Though he was dying anyway, so it was probably a mercy killing. Why do you ask?" Harry asked, handing the knife back to Jo.

"It was my fathers. I wanted to know if what the demon inside Sam was telling the truth of not."

"Ah. Right. Was it?"

"Looks like it."

"Ah, if it's any consolation, your father was going to die anyway. Whoever shot him, did it to put him out of his misery. Takes a strong person to do that. Or a completely heartless person."

"Which one was John Winchester, do you think?"

"John? I didn't really know him, but from what I've heard about him from Sam and Dean, and from what I gathered in the brief time of meeting him. I'd say he was the former." Harry told her, not entirely sure if he was lying or not.

"Oh. Dean's not answering his phone." Jo told him anxiously as they reached the back of the warehouse and the docks.

"Of course he's bloody well not. Now, do me a favour and stop asking questions so that I can concentrate on where he is." Harry told her, though his voice missing it's usual bite when normally addressing Jo. "Follow me, he's over here."

"How do you know?"

"I'm a reaper and the Winchester souls are mine to take. I know where they both are instinctively. However, the demon riding Sam's body is masking him from every reaper I know, Hank included."

"Hank?"

"Death. Shit, Dean." Harry muttered, running down towards where Dean was lying, partially in the water.

"Dean! Dean! Take it easy." Jo said, when Dean groaned in pain, and tried to push himself up.

"Where's Sam?" Dean asked them, looking at Harry.

"No idea. He's fled the coop again. We've been looking for you instead of Sam." Harry admitted with a shrug, whilst Jo helped Dean to stand.

"Come on, get up. Let's get back to tavern." Jo told him, Harry looked at Dean's bleeding chest with narrowed eyes.

"Has Sam spoken to you about deals at any point?" Harry asked him, moving forwards to help Dean walk forwards.

"Deals? What, like crossroads? No, why?" Dean said with a confused look, hissing in pain when he pulled at the wound.

"That shot should have killed you." Harry told him bluntly, before he tightened his grip on Dean. "Don't let go of Dean, Jo."

"What?"

"Oh no! Not again."

--

They arrived in the tavern, a weak Dean and a queasy Jo managing to drag Harry down to the floor with them, making them all land on the floor in a heap, Harry on the bottom somehow.

"Christ on a bike. Get off me, you two. Jesus." Harry grumbled, weakly pushing at the two on top of him. Jo climbed off of them with a groan and then helped to move Dean off him, guiding Dean over to a table and sitting him down.

"We need to clean you up." Jo told him, looking at the wound on his chest.

"I'll do it, go grab some alcohol. Preferably the highest alcohol count." Harry told Jo, getting up off the floor and walking to stand in front of Dean. "Okay, with or without the pain?"

"Without." Dean grunted, wincing at the pain in his chest.

"Okay. You asked for it." Harry muttered, before he placed a hand on Dean's chest and then another on Dean's cheek. He looked at Dean and nodded when Dean's eyes glazed over and Jo walked over with a bottle of expensive looking whiskey.

"What are you doing to him?" Jo asked, watching as Harry used his thin, nimble fingers to pull the bullet out of Dean's chest and Dean showed no discomfort at all.

"Technically? I'm messing with his soul." Harry admitted quickly. "Aha. Got ya." Harry muttered and then pulled out the bullet in Dean's chest.

"Messing with his soul?!"

"Yeah, it's what we do to victims that died in pain before we could get to them to remove their soul before the pain hit. The pain is still there, but their soul is disconnected enough so that they don't actually feel it."

"You've disconnected Dean's soul?" Jo deadpanned, sitting down heavily on the seat next to Harry.

"Sort of. Look, a little nudge and it'll be right back in place again and he'll never know the difference. Now pass me the alcohol." Harry told her, and Jo handed him the bottle and watched as he poured almost half the contents onto the wound on Dean's chest before pulling his hand away from Dean's cheek.

Dean gapsed and then hissed in pain slightly, as Harry tisked and placed a bandage over the wound that Jo had brought with her when she fetched the alcohol.

"Here, drink this. It'll make you feel better." Harry told him, shoving the bottle into Dean's hand. Dean looked at it and then took a long drink from the bottle.

"What the hell did you do to me?"

"Made it painless. Stop bitching." Harry grumbled, wiping his bloody hands on his shirt.

"Wait... it's still clean." Jo pointed out, getting the attention of both the men at the table.

"Yeah, he's like a weird ass cartoon character. Never changes his clothes and they never get dirty, ripped, destroyed, nothing. All the reapers wear the same style coat as well. Or a least, all the ones I've met. Which is disturbingly a lot considering I'm still alive."

"Ah, I'm betting you'll meet far more before your time is up." Harry admitted with a grin, taking the whiskey from Dean and taking a sip from the bottle before handing it back.

"So, any idea where Sam is heading now?"

"Well, he told me that he was going after hunters, so the closest one I know is in South Dakota." Dean told her, and Harry glanced at the clock above the bar.

"Hmm, should take him a while to get there, so we have time before we have to head on over. I'm assuming you are talking about Bobby Singer."

"Yeah." Dean admitted.

"Right, I'll take us there in a couple of hours then. Give you time to rest that wound a little."

"You can take us to Bobby?"

"Yep, all those you and Sam are friends with are my reaps. Bobby, Jo, Ellen. All of them, I will be told to take their souls. I think that also includes all the kids Azazel visited, but I'd have to double check that with Ha—fuck!" Harry cried out, grabbing his chest and shoving away form the table to stand up and knocking his chair down.

"Harry?" Dean asked, looking at the reaper in concern.

"I – You're gonna need to get to Bobby on your own. Sorry. I've gott –" Harry was cut off from whatever he was going to tell them as he seemingly was pulled through the shadows on the floor.

"That. Was creepy." Jo pointed out, whilst Dean stood up in a rush and looked at Jo.

"Yeah, very. But I've just lost my ride. You got a car?"

"Yeah. Come on, we should go now." Jo said, pulling some car keys from her pocket. Dean took the keys from her hand and gently pushed her back down in her seat.

"You're not coming."

"The hell I'm not. I'm a part of this now."

"I can't say it more plain than this – you try and follow me, and I'll tie you right back to that post and leave you here. This is my fight – well and Harry's, but he's clearly got other problems – I'm not getting your blood on my hands. That's how it's gonna be." Dean told her firmly before turning to leave.

"Wait." Jo called out and Dean stopped and turned back to face her. "Here. Take these, they'll help with the pain." She told him, throwing a bottle of pills at him, which Dean caught and looked at her gratefully.

"Thanks. I'll call you later, okay?" Dean said with a small smile, and then left the bar, the door closing behind him. Jo watched him leave and then smiled sadly.

"No, you won't."

--

Harry screamed out in pain as his body was forcefully dragged through the shadows and appeared in front of a very pissed off Hank. Harry whimpered in pain and stayed kneeling on the floor in front of him, looking up at him through his eyelashes.

"You may be my favourite, but I will not tolerate you ignoring me when I summon you."

"Sam's possessed! He needs me more!"

"I am the one who made you, I am the one who can tear you apart! Sam Winchester is nothing compared to what I am. Understand?"

"Yes, but—"

"No! Not only did you ignore me, but earlier you ripped a mortal's soul from his body. For what reason?" Hank demanded and Harry flinched and looked down at the floor.

"Sam." Harry whispered quietly and winced in pain as Hank's anger spiked and lashed against him, acting like a whip lashing at his back.

"If you do not start heeding my wishes little reaper, then I will forbid you from seeing Sam Winchester ever again. It will not take much for you to fall in my ranks." Hank threatened in a silky smooth voice that made Harry flinch once again.

"I'm sorry."

"I know, which is why I am willing to let it go. The demon currently inhabiting Sam Winchester's body needs to be taken care of. You have my permission to eradicate it's soul. Destroy it my little reaper and I will over look your little transgression from yesterday."

"Thank you, master." Harry whispered, bowing his head so that it nearly touched the floor.

"Now, now. None of that. Leave here. You should have a new text coming in with that demon's name on it. Azazel has over stepped his mark and Death and his reapers are now entering the forthcoming battle. You and the Winchester's will be the ones heading it."

"As you wish it." Harry said, before he bowed his head once more and then let himself sink into the shadows, appearing in front of Bobby's house. He ran through the walls when he heard something crash into the wall, only to duck as Bobby flew his way. "Shit, Bobby, are you okay?" Harry asked, kneeling down next to Bobby and checking him over.

"I'm fine you idjit, go help Dean." Bobby growled and Harry shrugged sheepishly and then ran into the room that Dean had apparently been thrown into, just in time to hear yet another 'big bad' monologueing. You'd think they'd learn.

"I saw your dad there. He says, 'howdy'. All that I had to hold onto was that I would climb out one day, and that I was gonna torture you, nice and slow. Like pulling the wings off an insect. But whatever I do to you, it's nothing compared to what you do to yourself, is it? I can see it in your eyes, Dean. You're worthless. You couldn't save your dad. And deep down... you know that you can't save your brother—"

"Dean might not be able to, but I sure as hell can." Harry interrupted from behind Sam, making him spin around to face Harry in shock and slight fear, before he masked it.

"You?!"

"Me. Sam might not have been the one to kiss me, and I doubt he even remembers, but I don't care. A reaper with even a small amount of hope is a scary thing." Harry said, grinning wickedly at the demon, who took a wary step back, before a malicious glit shone in his eyes and he smirked.

"Then I guess I'll just have to crush that hope. Poor little reaper. In love with a hunter. Has a Romeo and Juliet feel to it, doesn't it?"

"Sure, if you want. Of course Romeo was never possessed so I guess that adds a little twist to our version, don't it?" Harry asked with a grin, taking a step nearer to the demon, glancing past him for a second to look at Dean, who was pale and sweating in pain, though watching the two avidly.

"Hmm, you do have a point. You know, Sammy was awake when we kissed. Yelled at me to stop. Seemed to find it disgusting. Looks like I'm your only chance at getting a shot of Sam Winchester."

"Then I'll go without. I want Sam, not whoever the hell you are. Wait, I could get my phone out to find out. You are on it after all. Azazel has pissed off Hank and he's entering this war, on the side of the Winchester's. You really shouldn't have messed with me." Harry growled before he gave Dean a sense of Déjà vu only this time the spirit didn't resemble the body left behind. Though Sam was still out of it.

"Reapers can destroy anything with a sense of mortality, so say goodbye to yours." Harry growled at the spirit. Dean and Bobby, who had entered the room with a red hot poker, flinched at the high-pitched shriek the spirit emitted before it dissolved.

"Seriously freakin' scary." Dean slurred slightly, whilst Sam just stumbled away from Harry, somewhat disorientated and leant heavily on the wall next to Dean. "Where the hell were you anyway?"

"Hank told me that he would overlook it if I killed anything, but that doesn't stretch to me pulling the soul out of an innocents body. Not even if I was doing it for a good cause." Harry told them with a slightly jerky shrug, making Dean realise that there was something wrong with their reaper.

"Shit, what did he do to you?" Dean asked, wincing as he pushed himself up from the floor and walked to stand next to Sam.

"Nothing I didn't deserve. He was more angry that I had ignored him and he had had to force me to him, than what I had done to that guys soul." Harry told him with a shrug and a small smile.

"Boy, he's got a binding link on his arm that will trap any other demon inside him should he get possessed again." Bobby told him, interrupting whatever Dean was going to say.

"Right. Guess that explains the poker. Well me and Dean can hold him down and you can prod him with that shiny poker you have there." Harry told him, walking over to stand on Sam's other side.

"Can't you just, I don't know, use your voodoo on him?" Dean asked, looking round a still spacey and not completely aware of what is going on around him.

"For one, it's magic, not voodoo. How many times am I going to have to say that before you realise that? And do I look like someone that heals others? Bobby, the poker." Harry said, grabbing Sam's arm and holding it out for Bobby to break the link. "I'm sorry, Sam."

"S'alright." Sam slurred and Harry turned to look at him with a bright smile.

"Hey! You're back with us!" Bobby chose that moment to press the reheated poker into Sam's arm, getting himself a glare from Harry for his efforts and a muted yell of pain from Sam.

"Had enough of you pussy-footin' around." Bobby grouched, before walking out of the room. Harry turned to look at the two brother's who looked beaten to hell and sighed.

"Come on then, you two. Let's get you two patched up." Harry grumbled, grabbing Sam's arm gently, making sure to not touch the brand and leading him over to a couch, then sitting him down and moving back to Dean. "You know, you two are more trouble than it's worth sometimes." Harry grouched, tugging Dean to the couch and sitting him down next to Sam.

"Why stay with us then?" Dean grumbled sulkily, wincing in pain then Harry prodded his chest angrily.

"Because I want to. You two are more fun than I've had for years. Now sit there and say 'thank you, Harry.'"

"Thank you, Harry." Dean muttered and Harry turned to look at Sam, who looked at him in surprise.

"What?"

"You too, come on, 'thank you, Harry.'"

"Thank you, Harry." Sam told him with a small smile

"Good. Are you two okay? Really?" Harry asked, leaning back and looking at the two, whilst Bobby walked back in, handing the two an ice pack and looking at the grimly.

"We're fine. What is it Bobby?" Sam asked, looking at Bobby in concern.

"You boys ever heard of a hunter named Steve Wandel?" Bobby asked and Harry rolled his eyes when Sam and Dean shifted uncomfortably.

"We have no idea who you're talking about Bobby. Why do you ask?" Harry asked him, sending a glare at the two on the couch to shut them up. Sam looked away whilst Dean grinned weakly at him.

"Just heard from a friend – Wandel's dead. Murdered in his own house. You wouldn't know anything about that?"

"Nope, I can ask around the reapers if you want. Becky was probably the one to take his soul, so she probably knows who did it."

"Harry." Sam muttered and Harry glared at him to shut him up, Bobby looked at them suspiciously and then nodded.

"Hm, well make sure you continue not knowing anything about him. Wandel's buddies are looking for someone, or something, to string up, and they're not gonna slow down to listen to reason. You understand what I'm saying?"

"Loud and clear Bobby, though they'd be suicidal to mess with a reaper and his charges anyways, but we'll still take your advice. I'd rather not piss Hank off twice in one century." Harry muttered to himself, ignoring the concerned look all three hunters shot him.

"Good, here, take these." Bobby said, handing the two brothers something that Harry didn't see, he walked over to Sam's side and looked at the charm in his hand curiously.

"What are they?" Sam asked, looking up at Bobby.

"Charms. They'll fend of possession. I didn't get you one Harry as I figured you wouldn't be able to get possessed."

"Oh we can, but it's good. I have a tattoo that prevents it. I'll get these two the same thing." Harry told him with a grin, which grew when Sam and Dean shot him shocked looks.

"Yeah, well for the time being, those will stop any other demon from getting back in you two." Bobby told Sam and Dean gruffly and Dean grinned.

"That sounds vaguely dirty, but thanks."

"I'm beginning to see your point about Dean's timing." Sam muttered to Harry, getting a chuckle from Harry and a wounded look from Dean.

"You're welcome." Bobby told them with a grin at their antics.

"We better hit the road. If you can remember where you parked the car." Dean said to Sam, who grinned sheepishly but nodded.

"You boys be careful, now. Watch out for them, reaper."

"Will do, Bobby."

"You take care of yourself too, Bobby." Sam told the older hunter and they all left the house, following Sam to where he vaguely remembered parking the car.

--

They all sat inside the Impala in silence and Dean drove along the road away from South Dakota until Dean finally shifted in his seat slightly to look at Sam.

"You okay?" Harry looked at Sam and then at Dean when Sam didn't answer. "Sam? Is that you in there?"

"Dean..." Harry muttered, grinning and shaking his head at Dean's crappy sense of humour.

"I was awake for some of it, guys. I watched myself kill Wandel with my own two hands. I saw the light go out in his eyes." Sam whispered, looking at his hands in his lap and Dean looked over at him in concern, whilst Harry sat back in the backseat and looked out of the window, trying not to think about what else Sam may have remembered.

"That must have been awful." Harry looked up and tried to see if he could tell whether or not Dean was being sincere.

"That's not my point. I almost carved up Jo, too. But no matter what I did, you wouldn't shoot."

"It was the right move, Sam. It wasn't you. Plus, I'd like to see you go up against a pissed off reaper. You didn't see Harry the way I did this past week. Dude, he's freakin' scary!" Dean admitted, glancing at Harry in the rear-view mirror and frowning when he saw that Harry was looking out of the window and not paying much attention to them.

"So, you're gonna listen to Harry over Dad? That surprises me Dean."

"Sam, when Dad told me that I might have to kill you... it was only if I couldn't save you. Now, if it's the last thing I do, I'm gonna save you. Besides, Dad couldn't rip my soul clean from my body and destroy it with one move if I pissed him off." Dean muttered, glancing once more at Harry and noticing that Harry was actually listening to them, judging by the smug smirk on his face. Silence descended on the car until it was broken a few minutes later when Dean began to chuckle.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Dean, what?"

"Dude... you, like, full-on had a girl inside you for, like, a whole week." Dean said and Sam smiled and shook his head whilst Harry snickered quietly. "That's pretty naughty."

--

Harry sat on the table in the motel room, grinning when he realised that since he had joined the Winchesters, more times than not, they made sure that the room they had, had a table in for Harry to perch on whilst they were asleep. He flipped through John's journal and conjured a pen and a post-it note, adding his own notes about some of the beasties John had met that John hadn't seemed to know about them.

"Hey." Harry looked up from the journal in shock, looking at Sam curiously but to saying anything. Sam walked over and sat on the chair in front of him, looking up at him. "You alright?"

"Shouldn't I be asking you that? You _were_ a demon's bitch for a week." Harry pointed out with a grin, which faded when Sam looked at him seriously. "Why are you still awake, Sam?"

"I was awake in the motel room when you helped me." Sam told him and Harry's eyes widened before he looked down at the journal in his hands and played with the edges of one of the post-it notes.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Harry, she lied. I didn't protest it because I thought it was disgusting." Sam told him gently and Harry smiled weakly and gave a half-hearted laugh.

"But you did protest it." Harry pointed out, still not looking up from the journal, until Sam closed it and covered Harry's hands with his own.

"Yeah. I did. But not for the reason I'm betting you are thinking of."

"And what's that?"

"That I'm not interested in you." Sam told him softly and Harry looked at him sharply, frowning as he tried to get his head around what Sam was trying to say.

"So what reason did you protest?"

"I wanted to be the one behind to wheel when I kissed you." Sam admitted, then stood up and pressed a kiss to Harry's lips, dating his tongue inside his mouth when Harry gasped. Harry returned the kiss eagerly, moving to wrap his arms around Sam's neck and wrapped his legs around Sam's legs to pull him closer.

"Sam..." Harry muttered, pulling away from the kiss and running his tongue over his lips lightly before looking away from Sam.

"Harry, I don't care that you'll never be human. I want this whilst we can still have it, before you think I'm too old or something." Sam told him with a soft laugh and Harry laughed with him before pressing a soft, chaste kiss to Sam's lips and the pulling back and unwrapping his arms from Sam's neck.

"Go back to bed Sam. I'll still be here in the morning. We can talk then." Harry told him with a smile. Sam smiled back at him and then moved away from him and walked back to his bed. "Hey Sam?" Harry called out quietly and Sam sat on his bed and looked over at him.

"Yeah?"

"What's Urdu?" Harry asked and Sam chuckled softly and shook his head.

"It's a language spoken somewhere in India." Sam told him,amusement clear in his voice.

"Oh, thanks. Night Sammy." Harry watched him and then opened the journal back up when he thought Sam had finally fallen back to sleep and continuing adding to the notes.

**A/N – So I got inspiration to write this and then got oh so very confused. Note to self, never again have three fics on the go about the same two fandoms but with different pairings. Oh my head! I've just had to find and replace any Asmodeus' that I might have accidentally put in this (which was nine by the way) and then, reading this back, I realise that you could read into Harry and Dean's relationship way deeper than it truly is. Nothing is going to happen between Dean and Harry in this. Nothing, nada, rien. But they have become closer to one another, bonding over their fear for Sam and willingness to do anything to keep him safe. **

**So, here's another chapter, a long awaited chapter I will admit, for all of you and um... I'll try to finish the next chapter of Sympathy for the Devil soon as well. My mother read through some of my notes I have made on future chapters of that particular fic and chuckled before informing me that if any Christians read this, they would possibly bring back burning at the stake just for me. So, time to live dangerously, no? Though what I think she is referring to won't be happening for a good couple of chapters. Or she could just e referring to the fact that I've made an angel of God gay... *shrug* **

**Oh well. Lol! Tell me what you think of this chapter and I'll be updating **_**one **_**of my fics again soon. I just don't know which one. Heh. It'll probably be Asmodeus though. I'm kinda focusing on that more since it is nearly finished. Thank you for reading!!**


	16. Tall Tales

**Warning – Shockingly, there is a spoiler for Season Five in here. It's quite early into Season Five, but it's there. SO yeah, those of you who have seen them all, probably know what is gonna happen in this chapter, those that haven't… you have been warned in my defence. So yeah. SPOILER AHEAD.**

Chapter Fifteen – Tall Tales

"This kind of sucks just a little." Harry muttered as he walked behind Sam and Dean, scuffing his foot on the path.

They had come to Springfield and at first Harry had been highly disappointed that no one was yellow. Which got him strange looks from both Sam _and_ Dean, even though Harry knew Dean wanted to say the same thing. Now, however, Harry had gotten over the disappointment and was just kind of bored.

They were currently heading towards a bar that apparently all the students frequented to speak to them about the professor that had thrown himself out of a window. Now Harry was all for believing that it was just a clear case of suicide, but apparently Sam had discovered rumours that the building was haunted. So here they were.

Well, actually, they were on their way to the bar, so they weren't actually there yet. Harry just hoped they had some good alcohol at this bar. And that Sam would buy him something. Stupid lack of aging since he died had really made getting served very hard. Huffing and then looking at Sam's back speculatively, he grinned to himself.

Stopping slightly, without either Winchester noticing, both talking in low voices to one another to actually notice the bored reaper behind them, Harry then ran forward, using his momentum to launch himself onto Sam's back, and sniggering when Sam stumbled forward but managed to stay standing.

"Harry!" Sam exclaimed, though hooked his arms around Harry's legs to prevent him falling off his back, so clearly he wasn't too upset about it. Dean sighed from beside them and Harry just knew he was rolling his eyes.

"God, you two make me a little sick." Dean muttered, making Harry turn his head to the side to look at him and grin, reaching his hand out.

"Don't piss me off, Deany." Harry said, making Dean glare at him half-heartedly and bat his hand out of his face, whilst Sam chuckled and tightened his hold on Harry's legs.

"Psht, I know you well enough to know that that's an empty threat. You'd be too scared that you'd zap Sammy as well." Dean pointed out, and Harry flushed, whilst Sam snickered even more.

"Oh shut up." Harry muttered, hiding his face in Sam's hair and smiling. He and Sam hadn't really moved past actually admitting their feelings for one another and occasionally finding time alone when Dean was out, probably picking up random women in whatever bar they were near. Still, they hadn't actually moved past kissing and touching one another, which was apparently second base. At least, Harry was pretty sure that's what it was. Why American's had to give everything a sport metaphor, eh didn't know. He also didn't know the difference between Baseball and Rounders. Still, Harry was willing to admit feeling a little frustrated, though not to Sam. Hank and Becky had both regretted Harry having a phone however.

"Where the hell is this bar, dude?" Dean muttered, shoving his hands in his pocket and glancing along the road they walking down.

"Should be coming up." Sam told him, removing one of his hands from his pocket to wrap it gently around Harry's ankle.

"Thank God for that. Sammy, you'll buy me a drink, right?" Harry asked, nuzzling his nose into Sam's neck and hearing Dean scoff next to them.

"No way is he buying you a drink. I've never seen a drunk reaper, and I don't wanna see one." Dean told him before Sam could answer, though Sam squeezed his ankle slightly, which made Harry smile and press a kiss to Sam's neck before pulling back and looking at Dean.

"You suck." Harry told him bluntly, and then stuck his tongue out Dean, shocking Dean into laughing.

"You wish." Dean told him with a chuckle and a shake of his head.

"Nah, Sammy's enough for me." Harry said, grinning when Dean looked a little ill at that.

"Harry!" Sam exclaimed, making Harry giggle and pat Sam on the head soothingly.

"Don't worry, Sammy. I won't tell him everything we get up to in his bed when he's out the room."

"Dude! You so better be joking or I swear to God, I will shoot you in the head!" Dean told him and Harry pouted at him, then leant over and kissed Sam's cheek, which was a little flushed.

"That's not very nice! That hurts me!" Harry told Dean, leaning back slightly and pressing his hand ot his chest. "Right here, Dean. It hurts me right here. Don't you love me?"

"No." Dean told him bluntly and Sam snorted and then let go of Harry's legs, making Harry drop off his back with an small yelp.

"We're here so you two wanna stop your petty bickering?" Sam grumbled and Harry nodded his head before he realised that, standing behind Sam, Sam couldn't actually see him.

"Fine. Lead on, Hot Stuff." Harry said, smirking and then slapping Sam's ass, before jumping to stand behind Dean, who just sighed and walked into the bar, leaving Sam to glare at Harry, who just grinned at him, completely unapologetically.

"I'm so getting you back for that one later." Sam told him with a grin, making Harry look at him with wide eyes and swallow loudly.

"Really?" Harry asked, in an embarrassingly high-pitched voice. He cleared his throat and then looked back over at Sam, who was just looking amused. "Really?"

"Oh yeah. Now, come on, we have a case to try and solve." Sam told him, pulling him to him and pressing a hard kiss to Harry's lips before pulling back and walking into the bar, leaving Harry standing outside in a light daze.

Quickly shaking his head, Harry pouted and then quickly moved to walk into the bar, looking around for a sign of either Sam or Dean. He spotted Sam first, which wasn't all that surprising given how tall the man was, and weaved his way through the people to get to him.

"That was dirty." Harry told him with an exaggerated pout, which just made Sam look at him and smirk.

"You spoke about our sex life in front of Dean. That was nothing." Sam told him, still smiling wickedly, which made Harry eye him nervously.

"We're not even?"

"Oh, we're not even close to being even." Sam told him, then turned his attention back to the bartender that had finally moved to serve him.

"We're not? I think we are. In fact, I say we should just drop it now before I become the first reaper to die of embarrassment. Or sexual frustration." Harry added in a mutter, making the guy next to him at the bar, spit his drink out and start choking.

"Here." Sam told him, still looking amused as he passed Harry a drink and then moved away from the bar, and grabbing a seat at a table not far away, where another couple were sitting.

Harry wasn't surprised at all to see that The Sam Winchester Charm had worked on them both and they were both talking to him easily by the time Harry had managed to fight his way over.

"Yeah, we both had that professor for Ethics and Morality." The boy was telling Sam when Harry reached them and sat down in the one chair left at the table, smiling at the two that glanced at him curiously.

"This is Harry, my partner." Sam told them, making them both nod in understanding, which made Harry wonder what they assumed by partner.

"Hi, I'm Jen and this is Curtis." The girl, Jen, told him and Harry half-heartedly waved at her.

"So, why do you think he did it?" Sam asked them to try and get them back on track, whilst Harry sat back and let his eyes wander around the bar to try and find Dean, then rolling his eyes when he saw him flirting with a woman at the bar.

"Who knows? He was tenured, wife, and kids. His book was, like, a really big deal. Then again, who's to say it was suicide?" Jen said with a shrug, and Harry restrained himself from sighing when he heard that. So much for clean-cut case.

"Jen, come on." Curtis said, looking embarrassed for his girlfriends sake and making Harry turn his head to the side slightly to hide his grin.

"Well, what else could it be?" Sam asked and Harry kicked him under the table, getting a glare for his efforts.

"Well, you know about Crawford Hall." Jen stated, in a voice that indicated they really should know.

"Nope, we don't actually." Harry told her, giving into the fact that Sam and Dean both clearly thought there was something here to investigate. Actually, Harry felt there was indeed _something_ here, but it certainly wasn't a spirit. Nor was it anything he wanted to mess with.

"It's a bunch of crap. It's a total urban legend." Curtis told them, and rolled his eyes when Jen glared at him, Sam and Harry exchanged an amused look before looking back to Jen.

"Yeah, well, Heather's mom went to school here, and she knew the girl." Jen told him defensively and Harry wrinkled his nose in confusion and looked at Sam.

"Wait, what girl?" Clearly Sam was as confused as him, seeing as they hadn't actually managed to find anything out about the supposed ghost that was haunting the building.

"Like, thirty years ago, this girl was having an affair with some professor. He broke it off. She jumped out the window and killed herself." Jen told them in such a blasé way that Harry couldn't help but wonder what she'd be like as a reaper.

"You know her name?" Sam asked, whilst Harry took another sip of his drink and mentally scowled at the fact that dead people couldn't get drunk. Not that he'd told Dean that. And hopefully, Dean wouldn't find out for a while, his fear of a drunken reaper was far too amusing for Harry to give that up.

"No. But they say she jumped from Room 669. Get it? You turn the nine upside down…" Jen told them with wide eager eyes, and Sam nodded, whilst Harry just stared at her incredulously. "So, now she haunts the building. And anyone who sees her – they don't live to tell the tale."

"Er… then how does the tale get told? I mean, if no one lives to tell it?" Harry asked her curiously, making Curtis laugh and nod his head.

"That's exactly what I wanna know, man!"

"Curtis! Shut up!" Jen said, scowling and blushing. Sam grinned and glanced at Harry in amusement, whilst Harry just adopted an innocently bemused expression, which clearly didn't kid Sam at all, given he shook his head at him and then looked over at the still bickering pair.

"You know what, thanks a lot, guys. Excuse us." Sam told them, getting up from the table, making Harry quickly stand up as well.

"So… a spirit then? Is it worth me saying that it's really not?" Harry asked casually as they headed towards Dean, who appeared to be taking shots at the bar.

"You can tell this?" Sam asked him dubiously and Harry nodded, then shrugged and wrinkled his nose.

"Sort of. I can't sense any malicious spirits wandering around. A couple of lost souls, sure, but malicious feelings? Nope." Harry said, then stared past Sam with a slightly bemused look on his face. Sam looked at him and then turned around and gaped at Dean.

"Dean, what are you drinking?" Sam asked his brother incredulously, whilst Harry just eyed the dark purple shots anxiously. Nothing in nature was that colour. It disturbed him.

"I don't know, man. I think they're called Purple Nurples." Dean told Sam with a laugh and Harry's lips twitched into a grin, then he placed his hand on Sam's arm and stepped up to look at Dean.

"So, you can get drunk, but I can't?"

"Well… if I get drunk, chances are no one is gonna lose their souls." Dean pointed out with a grin, and Harry snorted and shook his head.

"Sure. So, you actually doing any work, or are you just getting drunk?" Harry asked and Sam scoffed behind him, making Harry turn to look at him questionaingly.

"He's clearly just getting drunk!" Sam exclaimed, scowling at Dean, who just grinned at him easily.

"Dean?"

"I'm getting drunk. But! But, Starla here, she's a grad student, in Anthropology and Folklore, so… technically, I'm getting drunk _and_ working." Dean told them with a grin, Sam exhaled angrily and harry snicker and grinned back at Dean.

"You're incorrigible. So, what have you found out?" Harry asked him, and Dean shrugged, whilst Starla looked over at them and smiled widely and little flirtatiously at Sam, who looked somewhat startled at that.

"Eyes off, Missy, he's mine. Keep Dean. I'm sure he's very able to scratch any itch you might have... Ew." Harry wrinkled his nose and noticed both Dean and Sam doing the same at the sudden thought that brought up. Starla however just remained oblivious and giggled, hanging over Dean slgihtly. "Seriously, what have you found out?"

"Not much, to be honest. There's myths about the place, hauntings and such. But that's it. Nothing else. I say we go to the building and check it out." Dean said with a shrug, sounding a little more sober, and somewhat less interested in the poor woman draped over his back.

"Harry doesn't seem to think it's a spirit." Sam told Dean before Harry could say so, and Dean frowned and then shrugged, managing to dislodge Starla a little.

"We could still check it out, just in case. Something's doing this. I'm sure of it." Dean said with a nod, and Harry raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything.

"Fine. Finish your drink and we need to be fresh faced tomorrow when we go to the building." Harry said with a sigh and Dean smirked at him and downed his drink then turned to Starla.

"Sorry, we've got work to do." Dean told her with a charming grin, that made Harry roll his eyes.

"Come on, let's go." Sam said, grabbing Harry's hand and smiling nervously at Starla when he giggled at him as he passed, Dean leading ahead of them.

"Mine." Harry hissed at Starla as she passed and making Sam chuckle and squeeze Harry's hand tightly.

"Leave her alone, Harry." Sam muttered into Harry's ear. Harry pouted and then looked up at Sam and smiled brightly at him.

"Does this mean we're even now?"

"Oh no. Not even a little bit. Good try though." Sam told him lightly, tugging him gently out of the bar and ignoring Harry's distressed whine.

* * *

Harry nibbled on his lip as he followed Sam and Dean up to the stairs of the building, feeling whatever strong presence he had been feeling since he arrived here, even stronger from within that building.

"Maybe we should just leave it." Harry said in a quiet voice, nibbling on his lip and stopping before he actually entered the building.

"What? No way. Come on. We're supposed to be meeting the janitor of this place so he can show us to the dead guys office." Dean said, making Harry bite through his skin and then steel himself and followed the two into the building, ignoring the concerned look Sam shot him.

"Hi! You guys the people come to rewire the place?" Harry gasped and clutched at his chest when the janitor appeared in front of them, making Dean and Sam both turn around to look at him, both concerned.

"You alright?" Dean asked, Sam moving to stand next to Harry and placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah! Fine, so, don't we have some offices to rewire?" Harry asked with forced cheer, making the Janitor look at him closely and then wink.

"Right…" Dean agreed, shooting Harry one final concerned look, which just made Harry look at Dean strangely, and then turned around to face the janitor again.

"Okay then! Follow me!" The janitor told them cheerily and led them up the stairs to the office of Professor Cox, the guy that had jumped, or had been pushed.

"So, how long have you been working here?" Sam asked as he followed the janitor into the office, watching as the man switched the lights on and then stepped back to make room for Harry and Dean to enter. Harry kept his eyes on the man as he passed him, then quickly darted towards Sam to keep the taller man between himself and the janitor.

"I've been mopping this floor for six years. There you go, guys." The janitor told them, making a sweeping motion at the room for them, then gaping at the EMF meter that Sam pulled out. "What the heck's that for?"

"Just finding the wires in the walls." Sam told him calmly, whilst Harry narrowed his eyes at the man and then quickly looked away when the janitor looked at him and grinned widely.

"Huh. Well, not sure why you're wiring up this office. Not gonna do the professor much good." The janitor told them and Harry glanced at him and then walked over to the desk and looked at the items on it.

"Why's that?" Dean asked, whilst Harry picked up a paperweight from the table and focused on what it told him about the man who owned it.

"He's dead." The janitor told them with a shrug and Harry withheld a growl when he got nothing from the paperweight in his hands, glancing up through his fringe at the janitor, wondering if it was him stopping him from getting anything.

"Oh, what happened?"

"He went out that window, right there." The janitor told them, nodding at the window behind where Harry was standing.

"Yeah?" Sam asked, whilst Harry kept quiet and picked up a pen from the desk instead, smirking when he managed to get a small amount of information before he lost it.

"Mm-hmm." Harry glanced over at the janitor and winked back when he saw the man looking at him and pouting slightly.

"Were you working that night?" Sam asked, looking over from the wall he was checking over at the janitor, who turned away from looking at Harry to meet Sam's gaze. Sam frowned when he noticed the interaction between the two.

"I'm the one who found him?" The janitor told them, and Harry slapped Dean's hand when he reached for the bowl of sweets on the desk.

"You see it happen?" Sam asked, whilst Dean pouted at Harry, who dragged the sweet bowl out of Dean's reach and glared back at him.

"Nope. I just saw him come up here and, uh…" The janitor trailed off and all three men in the room looked over at him curiously.

"What?" Sam asked him and the janitor grinned at him and shrugged.

"He wasn't alone."

"Who was he with?" Dean asked, though he did try one last time to grab a sweet, Harry slapped his hand once again however and Dean gave up.

"He was with a young lady. I told the cops about it, but I guess they never found her." The janitor told them and Harry scowled at him but kept quiet, knowing when to pick his battles.

"You saw this girl go in, huh? But did you ever see her come out?" Sam asked curiously, and Harry rolled his eyes and mentally made a note to talk to Sam about what sort of questions builders and such would be asking about a supposed dead person they had no connection to.

"Now that you mention it, no."

"You ever see her before, or around?" Sam asked and Harry glanced at Dean, who clearly knew what he was thinking (and didn't that say something about how long Harry had been with the two) and smirked at him.

"Not her." The janitor told them and Dean picked up on his unspoken words and frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't mean to cast aspersions on a dead guy, but, uh… Mister Morality, here? He brought a _lot_ of girls up here. Got more ass than a toilet seat." Harry snorted in amusement and then covered it with his hand, noticing that Dean's shoulders were also shaking with laughter slightly.

"One more thing. This building – it only has four stories, right?" Sam asked him and the janitor looked at him in confusion and then nodded his head.

"Yeah."

"So there wouldn't be a room 669?" Sam asked him and Harry saw where Sam was going with this line of questioning, even if no one else seemed to.

"Of course not. Why do you ask?"

"Just curious. Thanks."

"Sure." The janitor told him with a slightly confused look on his face. Harry barely restrained himself from applauding the man's acting.

* * *

"Well, no traces of EMF, that's for sure." Sam said once they had entered their motel room after leaving Professor Cox's office. Harry nibbled on his lip and stayed near the door whilst Dean and Sam walked over to the beds.

"Yeah, and that room 669 is a load of crap." Dean pointed out making Harry roll his eyes.

"So, what do you think? Professor's just a jumper? The legend's just a legend?" Sam asked and then looked over at Harry curiously when he noticed that the reaper was still hovering by the door. "Harry?"

"Hmm? Look, I need to go and do something. I'll be back in a few, okay?" Harry asked, getting a confused nod from Sam.

"What do you need to do?" Dean asked, and Harry sighed and stopped, looking at the door in front of him.

"Something. I'll be back soon." Harry then walked through the door before Dean could ask anything else and dropped into the shadows of the hallway.

* * *

Harry stepped out of the shadows and looked up at the building he had just been in, still feeling the strong presence there and smiling grimly, walking up the steps of the building and through the door.

He found the janitor in the locker room, looking through a World Weekly News magazine and chuckling.

"Thought you'd come to see me, little reaper."

"Gabriel." Harry said with a slight tilt of his head. Gabriel lowered the magazine and grinned at him, making Harry feel highly nervous.

"So… what can I do for you?"

"Look, you're like, one of the most holy beings out there, and that worries me. You can kill me with a couple of well thought out words and that just fucking scares me." Harry admitted, dragging a hand through his hair in agitation.

"So?"

"So… I'm asking that you don't. Don't give me my Last Rites. I… I like my life, I don't want to lose it. I don't _have_ a soul to move on with, so… yeah. There _is_ no heaven or hell for me. This is it." Harry muttered, looking at Gabriel anxiously. The archangel stood up from the bench he had been sitting on and walked over to Harry.

"Why would I want to kill you?"

"I – I know where you're hiding. You must know they're looking for you, right? They have been since you left!" Harry told him, looking up at the man, who frowned and then grinned and placed a hand on Harry's shoulder, making Harry flinch slightly.

"Fine, so… if I don't kill you, you won't tell where I am? How's that fair? If I kill you, then I won't have to worry about you telling anyone. Because you will cease to exist."

"Well… yes. True. But I'm with the Winchester's! You really think they won't wonder what happened to me? Besides them, there's Hank. He will know who killed me straight away. He will know the _name_ of who killed me. Not Loki, or Trickster, or whatever else you go by. He'll learn it was an Archangel called Gabriel."

"Okay, now you've got a point. You're really _that_ important to Azriel?" Gabriel asked him, a little incredulity creeping into his voice.

"Look at me. I mean, really _look_ at me. What do you see?"

"A midgety reaper?"

"Hey!" Harry exclaimed, frowning and pouting.

"Fine, fine." Gabriel stated, holding his hands up in surrender, then looked at Harry and titled his head to the side. A few seconds later, his eyes widened and he grinned widely at Harry.

"What do you know. A reaper with no quota. What deal did you make to get that status?"

"I asked for someone's safety." Harry muttered, looking at the floor, before Gabriel placed a finger under his chin and forced him to meet his eyes.

"It was you." Gabriel stated, sounding almost in awe of Harry, who blushed and nodded his head.

"You screwed up plans that have been in place for _years_. And you did it before anyone could stop you. With Azriel's _backing_!"

"I couldn't let that happen. I _like_ this world and most of the people on it. Plus… you think we reapers would be safe?" Harry scoffed and then dropped his eyes to the floor.

"Well, I must admit, I was impressed. They weren't all too happy with you. If they find out who did it, you know they will kill you, right?"

"I know."

"Well, I like you. So I'm not gonna kill you, nor am I gonna tell anyone what you did."

"Thank you. I'll tell the Winchester's that I came back here and found out how Professor Cox died. I'll tell them it really _was_ a suicide. We'll leave tomorrow morning."

"No! Don't leave yet! I've got so many plans for the people of this place! Stay, enjoy the show!"

"Er… Gabriel –"

"Call me Gabe."

"Right… Gabe… The Winchester's are hunters. Two of the _best_ hunters out there. You think they're not going to investigate what is causing everything that's happening?" Harry asked him, looking at the angel in front of him incredulously.

"Okay… you have a point."

"I do. And you know that eventually one of them, my money's on Sam, but one of them is going to see it all points to you." Harry added and Gabriel winced and then sighed.

"And then I'd have to let them 'kill' me and that would just be messy. Damn, I see your point."

"Exactly. So, I'm gonna leave here, tell them my 'findings' and we'll leave you here to do what you do best." Harry told him and Gabriel frowned and nibbled on his lip.

"But then you'll miss the slow dancing aliens!" Gabriel exclaimed and Harry gaped at the angel in front of him, not entirely sure if the man was joking or not.

"Gabriel. They're The Winchester's. _Winchester's_! Does that mean nothing to you? I know they can't kill you, but… fuck! I'd have to pretend to take your soul!"

"Why would you have to do that?"

"I reap the souls of everyone/thing that those two kill. It's my deal in order to be able to stay with them." Harry explained and Gabriel wrinkled his nose in confusion.

"Why are you staying with them anyway?" Gabriel asked, finally moving out of Harry's personal space and creating two comfortable recliners with a click of his fingers.

"They saved me, so I figured I'd stay with them to watch over them and also… Sam." Harry admitted with a shrug.

"Ah, you like the younger brother? Complicated." Gabriel said with a sympathetic wince.

"Tell me about it. Even more so, now that I can't actually get back my soul." Harry muttered, folding his legs underneath him and getting comfy on the chair.

"Can't help you with that one."

"I know. So… we leave and you carry on making mischief and teaching the lesser beings lessons." Harry finally said with a sigh.

"Looks like that's the best plan of action. Will you be able to hide who I am from Azriel should he ask you about me?"

"Why would he ask? Seriously, why? I mean, I only heard of you because I happened to be there the last time Rafael came down in their futile search."

"Yes, but he may ask you. Will you be able to lie to him?"

"Probably not, but Hank? He's the one that told them to leave you alone. He's on your side in this." Harry told him with a small smile.

"Azriel _doesn't_ want to make me go back?" Gabriel asked him a little incredulously, making a bowl of chocolates appear and offered the bowl to Harry, who took one.

"Nope. He's fed up with them himself apparently. Why else do you think Hank was willing to agree to my deal? He made sure no angels could find me though."

"How'd he do that?"

"No clue. Something to do with my soul. He was very vague about it."

"When isn't he?" Gabriel grouched and Harry snorted.

"Look, I had better be going if I don't want Sam and Dean coming to search for me. I'm sorry if I give you away to Hank, but I honestly don't think he will care." Harry told him as he climbed out of the comfortable chair.

"Maybe it would be nice to speak to my older brother. That doesn't mean you can just call him to tell him, by the way." Gabriel added quickly when he saw Harry's smirk.

"Damn. You have a mobile?"

"Of course I do. Why?"

"Want Hank's number?"

"Yeah." Gabriel said, sitting up right on his chair and holding out his hand for Harry's phone. Harry handed his phone over and then leant on the wall to wait whilst Gabriel played with it to get Hank's number. "I took yours as well. Expect a message with photos of slow-dancing aliens."

Harry took his phone back from Gabriel and then laughed and shoved it back in his pocket.

"Personally, I always wanted a crocodile that someone had flushed down the toilet to come up from the sewers and eat my cousin when I was younger." Harry told him with a wink, and then let his body fall back into the shadows.

* * *

When Harry dropped out of the shadows in front of the door to their motel room, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and pulled it out, worrying about who it could be.

'_Think Azriel will teach me that trick? – Gabe'_ Harry snorted in amusement, and then walked through the door into the motel room, making Sam and Dean, who looked as though they were about to leave, jump back in shock.

"Going somewhere?" Harry asked them, tilting his head in curiosity.

"Sasquatch here was worried about you. You've been gone for an hour, Dude." Dean commented, and Harry withheld a snicker when he realised Dean was just as worried as Sam was.

"Ah, well I come bearing news on the good Professor Cox."

"Oh?" Sam asked, hovering over Harry slightly in a way that Harry could say was endearing but was actually quite annoying.

"Yeah. It was suicide. I went to his house. If I touch an item that the deceased had owned, then I can find out how and when they died. He killed himself." Harry told them, brushing past them to walk over to the table and sit on it.

"So… there was nothing to suggest it was anything supernatural?" Dean asked him, flopping bonelessly down onto the bed and then rolling on his stomach to look at Harry, who shrugged and then shook his head.

"Nope. Even found the reaper that took his soul. Kurt normally takes the suicide cases around here. He said he took the Professors soul and then watched the girl he was with leave the room just before Cox decided to try and fly." Harry told them, picking at his nails slightly to avoid eye contact.

"So… we have nothing? There's nothing here for us to hunt at all?" Dean asked, looking up to glare at Sam slightly. Sam glared back and then sat down heavily in a chair.

"I guess we'll leave here tomorrow then? Find something else to hunt." Sam said with a sigh and Harry released a tiny sigh of relief himself.

"Sure thing. If we hit the road early enough, we might make it to the suspected Al over in Richmond." Dean muttered, and Sam shrugged.

"Sounds good to me."

"Good, I'm gonna go to sleep now. Don't even think of screwing around when I'm in the same room." Dean grumbled to them, narrowing his eyes at them as he sluggishly took his jeans off and then got into the bed.

"Think he'd know either way?" Harry asked Sam with a wicked smirk, Sam went to answer but was interrupted by a pillow smacking into the side of his head. Both men looked over to see Dean glaring at them.

"I'd know!"

**A/N – Huh, I honestly thought I'd be posting LBL next. How… odd that it was this instead. Still, this chapter was the one that had been giving me the most grief, so maybe updates will become a little more often now. And no, Crystal, there was no lemon in this chapter. Sorry. I hang my head in shame. *Grin***

**So tell me what you think, yeah? I'm actually a bit upset at how short this chapter was. I have a bit of OCD in that I prefer my chapters to have at least ten thousand words (unless it's the first chapter/prologue, then four thousand) and this one… doesn't. Doesn't even come close. Still, I'm quite happy at where it went. Dunno if you agree with me, but how else was Harry the Reaper gonna not notice what Loki the Trickster Archangel was? So yeah. This is what I came up with. I liked it. It also gave me a nice way to give some more hints about certain things that have changed. **

**Finally, if anyone has a twitter account, then I have an account which gets updated with random facts about the Sam's and Dean's in my universe's. It's updated with a new fact almost everyday. So yeah, should you wish to check it out, it's called SamnDeanFacts. **

**Hope you enjoyed this chapter! **


	17. Sorry About This

I'm sorry to say that i've been having a few issues with health and my family recently, so my updates will be slow in coming. I'm not sure when I will next be updating any of my fics, but I haven't abandoned any of them. When I find the time, I will be writing more, so I will eventually be updating something, but just not very regularly.

Sorry for the disappointment that a) no idea when I'll be updating next and b) that this isn't a chapter. But good news! It's also not a note to tell you that I'm leaving fanfiction and deleting all my fics. Because I'm not. And should anyone be curious, I do indeed have a vague order that I try to keep to with updating my fics (though, nine times out of ten, I ignore it). It is as follows:

Sympathy for the Devil  
Creep  
For Whom the Bell Tolls  
Little Boy Lost  
Confessions of a Male Escort  
Azluha

I do occasionally post updates on things in my life on my LJ (Meh_Forget_It) and I can normally be found on Twitter (PoLeWitt), because it's really quite easy to tweet whilst in a hospital pretending to just be turning your phone off... So if I haven't updated in a while, chances are you can find out the reason on either of those. Twitter probably more so. My LJ App hates me...

Ate  
xxx


End file.
